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By  M.  M.  SHOEMAKER 


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G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
New  York  London 


ISLAM   LANDS 

NUBIA, 

THE  SUDAN, 

TUNISIA  AND  ALGERIA 


BY 

MICHAEL  MYERS  SHOEMAKER 

Author  of  "  Islands  of  the  Southern  Seas," 
Wanderings  in  Ireland,"  "  Winged  Wheels  in  France,"  etc. 


WITH  44  ILL  USTRA  TIONS 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

(Tbe  ftnfcftcrbocftcc  press 
1910 


71  "T 


^. .. 


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Copyright,  1910 

BY 

MICHAEL  MYERS  SHOEMAKER 


TCbc  Itnicbecbocliec  prcM.  "VKcn  Vocft 


MY  WIFE 

THIS   RECOLLECTION   OF   OUR   WANDERINGS    IN  THE   LANDS 
OF   THE  WANING   CRESCENT 


PREFACE 

IT  is  suggested  that  my  title,  Islam  Lands  "is 
not  euphonious."  Granted — ^but  if  it  were 
so  it  could  not  be  applied  to  the  Orient.  The 
East  is  a  paradox,  so  to  speak.  It  is  charming  and 
shocking,  picturesque  and  horrible;  beautiful  in  its 
panoramas  yet  discordant  in  its  voices  and  music. 
Therefore — to  my  thinking — a  euphonious  title 
would  be  inappropriate  for  this  book;  whereas 
the  one  I  use  brings  to  my  mind  and  ear  the 
clatter  and  clangour  and  all  the  contradictions  of 
the  lands  of  the  waning  crescent. 

In  another  work  I  have  described  the  farther 
Orient,'  i.e.,  those  lands  beyond  the  Caspian  Sea. 
Here,  while  we  do  not  leave  what  might  be  called 
the  nearer  Orient,  I  think  it  is  less  known,  to  the 
thousands  who  sail  past  its  shores,  than  those 
more  distant  sections  in  Central  Asia.  True, 
countless  numbers  have  visited  the  cities  and 
traversed  the  railways  of  Algeria  and  Tunisia. 
I  did  so  twenty  years  ago  but  not  until  this  later 
journey  was  completed  did  I  realise  that  in  the 
earlier    one  I    had    seen  comparatively  nothing, 

^  Heart  of  the  Orient,  by  M.  M.  Shoemaker,  G.  P.  Putnam's 
Sons. 

iii 


iv  Preface 

that  only  with  the  winged  wheels  of  a  motor  can 
justice  be  done  to  Northern  Africa.  Before  that, 
however,  our  wanderings  had  taken  us  up  the  green 
valley  of  the  Nile  to  the  grisly  Sudan — ^fascinating 
yet  intolerable, — where  the  spirit  of  Gordon  and 
the  wraiths  of  his  murderers  haunted  our  days  and 
dreams.  After  that  we  sailed  the  seas  imtil 
Tunisia  spread  before  our  eyes  a  garden  of  the 
Great  God  who  is  above  all  religions  and  creeds. 
There  we  motored  away,  over  the  most  superb 
roads  in  the  world,  through  Tunisia — Roman, 
Christian,  and  Islamic — to  the  gates  of  the  holy 
city  of  Karaw^n,  thence,  on  past  the  ruins  of  Car- 
thage to  stately  Timgad  crowning  her  hill,  and  then 
out  into  the  silence  of  the  Garden  of  Allah  where 
the  figures  of  life  seemed  but  painted  on  the 
curtains  of  a  dream  and  one  dropped  backward 
through  the  ages  to  stately  Bible  days  and  down- 
ward again  to  the  joy  of  living  as  the  car  glided 
through  the  gorges  and  over  the  mountains  of 
Algeria  until,  in  Or  an,  we  had  our  last  touch  of 
African  sunshine,  our  last  glimpse  of  Islam  Lands. 

M.  M.  S. 
Union  Club,  May,  1910. 


CONTENTS 

PAGB 

CHAPTER  I 

Southward  from  Assouan — Life  on  the  Upper  Nile — 
Korosko — Kasr  Ibrim — Queen  Candace — Approach 
to  Abii-Simbel  —  The  Great  Temple  —  Fellow 
Travellers — Impressions  of  Ab(l-Simbel — A  Travel- 
ler of  the  Year  594  B.C.      .  .  .  .  .         i 

CHAPTER   II 

Entrance  to  the  Sudan — Wady-Halfa — British  Occupa- 
tion— Departure  for  Khartoum — The  Train — The 
Journey — Atbara  River  Junction — First  Notice  of 
Gordon — The  Relief  Expedition — Mr.  Gladstone — 
Present  Day  Interest  in  that  Period — Abil-Hdmed 
— Merawi — The  Worth  of  this  Land — Arrival  at 
Khartoum — Panorama  of  the  City — First 
Impressions  .         .         •         .         .         .         -19 

CHAPTER   III 

Climate  of  Khartoum — Our  Hotel — History  of  the  City — 
Advancing  Civilisation — First  Walk  through  the 
City — Greek  Traders — Khartoum's  Brass  Band — 
Panorama  of  the  Niles — First  Glimpse  of  Slatin 
Pasha 33 

CHAPTER   IV 

Omdurman  and  the  Way  thither — The  Junction  of  the 
Rivers — Discovery  of  their  Source — Breakfast  with 
Major  Haskard — The  Prison  of  the  Khalifa — The 
Mahdi's  Tomb,  his  Life  and  Death  and  Burial — 


vi  Contents 


Slatin  Pasha  in  Omdurman,  his  Life  and  Escape — 
Father  Ohrwalder — House  of  the  Khalifa — His 
Relations  to  Slatin  Pasha — Gossip  of  the  Bazars — 
Cannibalism — Torture — An  English  Missionary — 
People  of  the  Sudan — Slave  Market — Battle  of 
Omdurman — Opposing  Forces — Picturesque  Attack 
of  the  Arabs — Flight  of  the  Khalifa — His  Death — 
Slatin  Pasha  Sees  him  again  ....       45 


CHAPTER   V 

Slatin  Pasha — An  Interesting  Talk — Father  Ohrwalder 
and  his  Life — F^te  in  the  Hotel — Gordon  Memorial 
College — Capt.  Archibald — The  Tse-tse  Fly  and 
Sleeping  Sickness — Dr.  Seaman's  Report — Dum- 
dum Fever — The  Wellcome  Laboratory  and  its  Work 
— Work  of  England — Pupils  at  Gordon  College- 
Its  Museum — Gordon's  Journal — War  Drum  of  the 
Mahdi — Church  in  the  Palace — Neufeld — Different 
Versions  of  Gordon's  Death — His  Head  at  Omdur- 
man— The  Mahdi's  Regret  at  his  Death        .  .       75 


CHAPTER   VI 

The  Government's  Warning — Mr.  Gladstone — Slowness 
of  his  Government — Lord  Cromer's  Opinion  of 
Gordon — Gordon's  Religion  and  its  Effect — Fatal 
Delays  of  the  Government — Lord  Northbrook's 
Opinion  of  Gladstone — Gordon's  Last  Cry — His 
Funeral  Services  Fourteen  Years  Later        .         .         99 


CHAPTER  VII 

The  Trip  to  Gondokoro — Departure  from  Khartoum — 
English  Officers— The  Ride  to  Port  Sudan— A  Burial 
in  the  Red  Sea — The  Opium  Trade — Customs  of  the 
African  Tribes — Marriages — Suez  and_the  Ride  to 
Cairo         ........      109 


Contents  vii 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  Streets  of  Cairo — The  Citadel  and  Panorama — Shep- 
heard's  Hotel  and  Changes  in  Life  there — No  Inter- 
course with  Egyptains — Cairo  in  1873 — A  Ball  at  the 
Gezira  Palace — The  Old  Nile  Life — Slavery — Cairo 
in  1909 — Life  in  her  Streets — Social  Life  .         .     128 

CHAPTER   IX 

A  Dust-storm — A  Dinner  in  the  Citadel — "The  King, 
God  Bless  Him" — Anderson  Bey — An  Interesting 
Afternoon — Useless  Slaughter  of  Game — Return  of 
the  Holy  Carpet  from  Mecca — Contrasts  in  Life 
— Departure  from  Egypt    .....     147 

CHAPTER  X 

Arrival  in  Tunisia — History — First  Glimpse  of  Carthage 
— City  of  Tunis — Old  Friends — The  Road  to  Carthage 
and  its  Ruins — The  Ancient  Gity — St.  Louis  the 
King — Engaging  a  Motor — The  Run  to  Karawan — 
Tunisian  Meadows  and  Flowers — The  Holy  City  of 
Karawan — Its  Mosques,  History,  and  Legends — The 
Gate  of  the  Green  Gages — Moors'  Entrance  into  Spain     158 

CHAPTER   XI 

The  Building  of  Karawan — Hucba — Growth  of  the  City 
— Its  Great  Mosque — The  French  Renegade  Sidi 
Hamet  and  his  Tale — Legends  of  Karawan — Okhbah 
— Treasures  from  Toledo — Farewell  to  the  City — 
The  City  of  Sousse 179 

CHAPTER   XII 

Start  from  Tunis — The  Ruins  of  Dougga — Souk-el-Arba 
— The  Run  to  B6ne — The  Cork  Forests — Hammam- 
Meskoutine  and  its  Legends — Constantine — The 
Route  to  Biskra — Gorge  of  El-Kantara — Biskra  and 
the  Life  there — Ancient  Sidi  Okba  and  its  People — 
The  Great  and  the  Little  Garden  of  Allah       .         .191 


viii  Contents 


CHAPTER   XIII 

Departure  from  Biskra — Pastoral  Life  of  the  Bible — The 
Years  3000  B.C.  and  2000  a.d.  Confront  Each  Other — 
The  Religion  of  the  Prophet  —  Batna — Ancient 
Timgad — A  Stately  Roman  City — Its  Downfall, 
Burial,  and  Resurrection 214 

CHAPTER   XIV 

Departure  from  Constantine — Rapid  Run  to  Setif — A 
Dirty  Place — Descent  of  the  Mountains  and  Passage 
of  the  Gorge  of  Chabet-el-Akhira — Superb  Scenery 
— The  Great  Roadways  of  the  French — Their  Con- 
struction and  Maintenance — The  African  Riviera — 
Bougie — The  Kabyles  and  their  Mountains — 
^Arrival  at  Algiers      ....  .         .     226 

CHAPTER   XV 

Thoma  Purchases  the  Motor — Departure  for  Oran — 
A  Beautiful  Run  —  Oran  —  Trouble  about  the 
Motor — Farewell  to  Islam  Lands  .        .         .     239 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Abou-Simbel        .         .         .  Frontispiece 

From  a  photograph  by  Sebah,  Nubia 

The  Banks  of  the  Nile        ....        4 

From  a  photograph  by  Miss  Helen  Pannelee 

Abou-Simbel — Interior  ,      .         .         .         .8 

From  a  photograph  by  Sebah,  Nubia 

"Where  the  White  Nile  Meets  the  Blue*'        12 

A  general  view  of  Khartoum."  (By  special  permission 
of  the  Soudan  Development  and  Exploration  Com- 
pany, Ltd.). 

The  Gordon  Statue,  Khartoum  .         .         .16 

From  a  photograph  by  the  Author 

View  of  the  Gordon   Memorial  College 

FROM  the  River    .....       20 
From  a  photograph  by  Miss  Helen  Pannelee 

The  Sons  of  the  Mahdi  and  Khalifa  .         .       24 

By  kind  permission  of  Captain  Amery 

The  Mahdi 's  Tomb  the  Morning  after  the 

Battle  of  September  2,  1898  .         .       28 

The  Mahdi 's  Tomb  as  it  is  To-day        .         .       32 

From  a  photograph  by  the  Author 


X  Illustrations 

PAGB 

The  Khalifa's  House,  Omdurman         .         .       36 

From  a  photograph  by  the  Author 

The  Battle-Field,  Omdurman      ...      40 

After  um  Debreikat.    Showing  the  Body 

OF  the  Khalifa  in  the  Background        .      44 

From  a  photograph  by  Watson  Pasha 

Victims  of  the  Sleeping  Sickness — Uganda.^ 
Some  of  the  Author's  Patients.    Note 
how  Thin  and  Wasted  they  are    .         .       48 
From  a  photograph  by  Major  Archibald. 

Major-General    Sir    Rudolf    von    Slatin 

Pasha 52 

Permission  of  LeKegian  Co. 

General  Gordon  .....       56 

Permission  of  London  Stereoscopic  Company 

The   Palace,  from  the   Gardens.    Gordon 

Fell  in  the  Left-Hand  Corner     .         .       60 

Plan  of  the  Palace 64 

Where  Gordon  Fell  ....      68 

(The  Old  Palace,  Khartoum) 

The  Monument  to  General  Gordon  in  St. 

Paul's,  London 72 

From  a  photograph  by  J.  Valentine 

A  Sakieh  at  Khartoum        ....       76 

From  a  photograph  by  Miss  Helen  Parmelee 


Illustrations  xi 


The  Terrace,  Shepheard's  Hotel 

From  a  photograph  by  P.  Dittrich 


A  Sand  Storm  Sweeping  over  Khartoum 

From  a  photograph  by  G.  N.  Morhig 

The  Return  of  the  Sacred  Carpet 

From  a  photograph  by  the  Author 

General  View  of  Carthage  of  To-day 

From  a  photograph  by  Garrigues,  Tunis 

Ancient  Carthage       .... 

(Kind  permission  of  Delagrave,  Paris) 

The  Market  at  Kara  wan 

From  a  photograph  by  Photochrom 

The  Mosque  of  the  Swords,  Karawan 

i  From  a  photograph  by  Lehnert  &  Landrock,  Tunis 

The  Mosque  of  the  Barber,  Karawan 

I  From  a  photograph  by  Lehnert  &  Landrock,  Tunis 

A  Muezzin  AT  Karawan      .         .         .         .118 

-  From  a  photograph  by  Miss  Helen  Parmelee 

I 

The    Exterior   of    the    Grand    Mosque, 

Karawan      .         .         .         .         .         .124 

I  From  a  photograph  by  Garrigues,  Tunis 

The  Court  of  the  Grand  Mosque,  Karawan    130 

From  a  photograph  by  Lehnert  &  Landrock,  Timis. 

The  Interior  of  the  Grand   Mosque, 

Karawan 136 

From  a  photograph  by  Lehnert  &  Landrock,Tunis 


PAGB 

80 


84 

88 

92 

96 

100 

106 

112 


xu 


Illustrations 


PAOB 

The  Temple  of  Jupiter  at  Dougga       .         .142 

From  a  photograph  by  Lehnert  &  Landrock,  Tunis 

Formations  at  Hamma,  Meskoutine     .         .     148 

From  a  photograph  by  Geiser 

The  Gorge  at  El  Kantarah         .         .         .154 

From  a  photograph  by  Geiser 

The  Park  at  Biskra  .         .         .         .160 

From  a  photograph  by  Geiser 

In  the  Park  of  The  Garden  of  Allah  .     166 

From  a  photograph  by  Geiser 

The  Great  Sahara 172 

The  20th  Century  Confronts  2000  B.C.         .     178 

From  a  photograph  by  Geiser 

Dwellers  of  the  Desert     .         .         .         .184 

From  a  photograph  by  Geiser 

The  Panorama  of  Timgad,  Algeria      .        .     194 

The  Roman  Camp  at  Timgad         .         .         .     co6 
From  a  photograph  by  the  Author 

Chabet  Gorge ei6 

From  a  photograph  by  the  Author 

A  Native  Village  on  the  Grand  Kabylia    .     226 
From  a  photograph  by  Geiser 


ISLAM  LANDS 


ISLAM  LANDS 


CHAPTER  I 

Southward  from  Assouan — Life  on  the  Upper  Nile — Korosko 
— Kasr  Ibrim — Queen  Candace — Approach  to  Abti- 
Simbel — The  Great  Temple — Fellow  Travellers — Im- 
pressions of   Abd-Simbel — A  Traveller  of  the  Year  594 

B.C. 

WHEN  the  divine  Isis  deserted  Egypt  for  ever^ 
she  passed  over  the  edge  of  the  world 
and  sought  her  home  in  space.  We  have  a  Hke 
feeHng  as  our  boat  turns  southward  from  the 
cataract.  Philas  is  dead  and  the  waters  are  fast 
burying  her  out  of  sight.  Europe  and  the  Hfe 
we  have  Hved  is  all  behind  us. 

Far  before  and  around,  seared  with  the  burning 
heat  which  pours  down  all  day,  and  cracked  by 
the  cold  of  night,  rise  the  desolate  hills  of  Nubia. 
The  day  of  judgment  appears  to  have  come  and 
gone  leaving  the  land  desolate  with  no  sign  or 
sound  of  life  save  the  plash  of  our  paddle-wheels, 
and  one  feels  that  even  that  should  be  hushed 


2  Islam  Lands 

away.  It  *s  almost  sacrilege  to  journey  up  this 
river  and  through  this  old,  old  land  in  a  puffing 
steamboat,  and  one  longs  for  the  towering  lateen 
sails  of  the  dahabeah  and  the  soft  hush,  hush  of 
the  waters  as  they  glide  past  its  keel,  misses  the 
drifting  dream  life;  but  since  that  we  cannot 
have,  let  us  take  the  good  the  gods  have  sent  us 
and  be  thankful. 

This  is  a  small  boat,  and  we  are  but  a  half 
dozen  and  let  each  other  alone,  and  sometimes 
much  comes  from  "letting  each  other  alone." 
There  is  no  touch  of  the  tourist  ship  about  the 
craft  except  when  the  dragoman  comes  in  to  tell 
us  what  he  thinks  we  should  see;  but  to  him  we 
pay  no  sort  of  attention  and  he  soon  glides  back 
into  the  outer  darkness  and  the  lower  deck, 
where  he  can  be  heard  grumbHng  over  his  possible 
loss  of  cash  from  a  lot  who  appreciate  him  not  at 
all  and  will  have  none  of  him.  I  think  he  regards 
me  as  prime  offender  as  I  can  see  the  gleam  of  his 
eyes  directed  toward  me  from  the  dark  below 
and  in  no  friendly  fashion.  The  sojourner  in 
upper  Egypt  to-day  is  often  impressed  with  the 
belief  that  it  would  take  but  little  to  imdo  the 
effects  of  England's  dominion  and  start  these 
people  into  savage  action,  when  it  would  go  hard 
with  us  on  this  upper  deck,  but  that  is  not  likely 
to  happen  just  now. 

The  whole  character  of  the  Nile  and  its  scenery 
has  changed  with  the  passing  of  the  cataract. 
The  wide  green  valleys  and  prospects  of  distant 


The  Nile  3 

mountains  and  deserts  have  disappeared.  From 
where  the  rocks  gripped  the  river  at  Assouan  and 
far  to  the  southward,  the  barren  hills,  all  black 
and  yellow,  crowd  down  to  the  very  brink,  with 
only  a  patch  here  and  there  of  vivid  green.  Each 
oasis,  be  it  ever  so  small,  holds  its  quota  of  human 
life:  sometimes  a  white  house  or  the  glistening 
dome  of  a  sheik's  tomb  but  more  often  the  low  mud 
hut  of  the  native  near  which  a  camel  is  tethered  or 
a  donkey  asleep. 

The  soil  does  not  appear  productive  yet  it  is 
claimed  that  there  is  no  starvation.  Men  live 
and  support  their  families  better  on  one  franc 
per  day  than  in  England  on  eight  shillings. 
However,  the  conditions  and  requirements  are 
very  different.  These  people  want  but  little — a 
mud  house  with  a  roof  of  palm  branches,  a  few 
grains  of  com  or  some  beans,  a  sheep  now  and 
then,  and  some  water.  Of  the  latter  there  is 
never  any  lack  especially  since  the  building  of 
the  great  barrages  (dams).  The  one  at  the  first 
cataract  has  turned  the  Nile  into  a  lake  for  more 
than  one  hundred  miles  to  the  southward. 

The  character  of  the  temples  has  changed 
with  the  land  and  grown  grisly  and  forbidding. 
Philae's  graceful  columns  slowly  sinking  beneath 
the  rising  river  are  the  last  of  the  kind,  and  our 
first  in  Nubia,  Gerf  Hus^n  the  ancient  Tutzis,  is 
wholly  rock  cut,  and  but  a  cave  in  the  desolate 
moim.tains.  It  is  called  by  the  Egyptians  the 
abode  of  "Pthah. "     All  around  it  and  down  the 


4  Islam  Lands 

mountains  behind  pours  the  deluge  of  bright 
yellow  sand  with  no  green  thing  even  by  the  river. 
Within  in  the  shadowy  darkness  one  finds  a  hall 
whose  roof  is  supported  by  four  Osiride  columns 
of  Rameses,  facing  two  by  two,  with  arms  crossed 
and  with  the  solemn  far-off  gaze  upon  the  strong 
faces  known  only  in  this  dead  world  or  on  the 
statues  of  Buddha.  How  many  times  before 
such  faces  in  Egypt,  in  Java,  in  Burma,  and  China 
I  have  vainly  endeavoured  to  find  some  point 
where  those  inscrutable  eyes  would  look  into 
mine,  but  always  in  vain.  We  mortals  are  far 
too  near,  those  eyes  look  above  or  through  but 
ever  far  beyond  us. 

!  As  our  boat  glides  southward,  across  the  bril- 
liant orange  of  the  sands  slowly  moves  a  pro- 
cession of  black-robed  figures,  and  in  the  deep 
blue  overhead  a  vulture,  sable  as  the  night,  floats 
motionless.  A  new  moon  is  just  sinking  in  the 
west.  Silence  and  God  keep  tryst  here,  and  no- 
thing moves  lest  a  word  be  lost.  Then  the  day 
ends  and  darkness  falls,  and  we  turn  to  our  books 
once  more. 

Morning  brings  us  to  where,  at  Korosko,  we 
first  find  traces  of  General  Gordon.  From  here 
he  started  by  caravan  on  his  fatal  journey  to 
Khartoum.  The  point  is  of  no  importance  now, 
and  one  sees  but  a  collection  of  roofless  mud  bar- 
racks, and  some  glories  of  palms.  Korosko  has 
done  its  work  and  the  world  has  no  further  use 
for  it. 


PVom  a  photograph  by  Miss  Helen  Parmelee 

The  Banks  of  the  Nile 


The  Desert  5 

Our  boat  comes  to  rest  for  the  night  close 
under  the  towering  cliff  of  Kasr  Ibrim,  one  hund- 
red and  thirty-four  miles  south  of  the  cataract. 
The  summit  of  the  cliff  is  thickly  covered  with 
ruins  and  after  dinner  we  climb  up  there  on  a 
tour  of  inspection.  Evidently  a  Roman  fortress, 
whose  stones  were  taken  from  some  far  more 
ancient  structure,  the  place  is  not  in  itself  of 
great  interest,  but  the  rather  stiff  climb  is  amply 
rewarded  by  the  prospect  over  river  and  desert. 

For  miles  to  the  north  and  south  the  Nile 
twists  away  like  a  silver  ribbon  thrown  out  by 
some  giant  hand,  while  to  the  north  and  south, 
to  the  east  and  west,  spread  away,  ridge  after 
ridge,  the  mountains  of  the  desert.  In  the  west 
hangs  the  crescent  of  a  new  moon,  but  of  life  of 
any  sort,  save  ourselves,  there  is  no  evidence.  It 
might  be  a  world  of  the  dead  and  that  the  river 
Styx  below  there;  it  certainly  is  far  more  a  world 
of  the  dead  than  of  the  living,  and  soon  even  our 
voices  faltered  away  into  silence. 

On  the  Arabian  side  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen 
save  tombs,  but  the  Libyan  shore  gives  traces  of 
fertility  greater  at  some  former  time  than  now. 
Greeks,  Romans,  Saracens,  and  Turks  have  in 
turn  held  this  rock,  which  like  the  Rhine  castles 
evidently  was  of  value  as  it  commanded  the  river 
for  miles.  It  was  a  most  important  point  during 
the  wars  of  Queen  Candace  with  the  Romans. 
We  are  told  that  she  was  of  great  courage  and 
one  eye. 


6  Islam  Lands 

Her  invasion  of  Egypt,  coming  twenty-two 
years  before  our  era,  found  Cleopatra  just  dead 
and  all  the  land  in  the  hands  of  Rome.  Under 
the  walls  of  her  old  fortress  our  dreams  are  full 
of  her  wars  and  defeat,  and  her  one  great  eye 
seems  gazing  all  night  into  our  window,  but  it  is 
only  the  moon  and  we  slumber  on  until  awakened 
by  the  starting  of  our  boat.  Breakfast  time 
finds  us  far  up  the  Nile. 

The  morning  is  brilliant  and  sparkling,  the  river 
and  the  desert  and  the  sky  almost  dance  with 
life.  A  sudden  turn  and  we  are  headed  directly 
toward  a  yellow  mountain,  clear  cut  against  a 
blue  and  cloudless  sky.  The  pale  green  waters 
wash  its  base  and  on  a  platform  somewhat  ele- 
vated four  great  seated  colossi  are  watching  our 
approach. 

From  the  mountains  above  a  swirl  of  yellow 
sand  has  descended,  almost  hiding  them,  but 
some  giant  hand  has  drawn  it,  curtain  like,  aside 
and  so  those  faces  watch  us  as  we  approach. 
Even  from  here,  and  we  are  quite  a  mile  away, 
the  far-away  tranquillity  of  expression  is  plainly 
visible,  and  yet  they  seem  to  watch  us ;  but  as  we 
draw  nearer  we  discover  that  they  have  not  even 
seen  us  but  like  all  those  others  are  gazing  at  some- 
thing off  and  beyond,  and  we  turn  instinctively 
to  see  what  it  is,  but  whatever  it  may  be,  it  is 
far  beyond  our  seeing. 

Even  a  weary  tourist  of  this  twentieth  century 
must  be  impressed  as  he  approaches  Abii-Simbel, 


Approach  to  Abti-Simbel  7 

and  our  company,  fortunately  very  limited  in 
numbers,  is  very  quiet.  This  temple  is  the  end 
and  aim  of  most  who  sail  this  river  and  the  de- 
termination to  see  it  is,  unknowingly  perhaps, 
implanted  in  every  one  who  enters  Egypt.  It 
was  so  in  my  case  when  thirty  years  ago  I  was 
forced  to  turn  backward  at  Thebes.  I  remember 
standing  long  before  a  photograph  of  Abu  in 
Cairo  and  vowing  then  that  some  day  I  would  see 
it,  and  am  I  disappointed  now  that  I  really  am 
before  it?  I  think  not,  certainly  not  yet,  for  the 
hand  of  man  has  never  fashioned  anything  more 
majestic  than  Abu-Simbel.  Philse,  though  beau- 
tiful, is  like  Edfu  and  Esna,  but  this  gigantic 
and  stately  rock-cut  temple  stands  unique  and 
unrivalled  in  all  the  world.  As  we  sail  towards 
it  from  a  lonely  niche  above  the  river  gazes  out  at 
us  a  statue  of  Hathor,  the  sacred  cow — she  is 
here  called  the  Lady  of  Abshek  (Aboccis),  the 
ancient  name  of  Abu-Simbel,  and  being  in  Ethiopia 
there  is  the  sign  signifying  "foreign  land."  Here 
also  is  the  wife  of  Rameses  II.,  Queen  "Nefert- 
Ari,"  standing  solitary  and  gazing  out  over  the 
river  whose  waters  at  flood  must  wash  her  feet. 
Now,  however,  she  is  enthroned  high  and  lonely 
and  looks  reproachfully  at  us  as  we  glide  past. 
What  was  her  history — her  daily  life?  It  is 
difficult  to  imagine  that  she  lived  and  loved, 
hated  and  died  as  we  have  done  and  shall  do. 
Did  life  hold  anything  for  her,  or  was  she  like 
most  of  her  sex  in  the  Orient,  relegated  to  the 


8  Islam  Lands 

vapid  life  of  a  harem?  If  so,  why  bother  to  im- 
mortalise her  in  that  lonely  niche  above  this  sacred 
river? 

As  our  boat  glides  nearer  I  look  around  to  see 
what  effect  the  great  temple  has  upon  our  com- 
pany. Some  of  them  are  gazing  as  though  they 
could  not  with  one  pair  of  eyes  each  see  enough 
of  it.  The  naturalist  is  fixing  his  nets, — what  are 
temples  to  him? — ^his  wife  is  tying  her  shoe.  One 
lady  is  locking  her  maid  up  that  she  may  not  have 
too  good  a  time  while  the  mistress  is  ashore.  All, 
the  waiter,  stands  counting  his  tips  with  which  he 
has  announced  that  he  will  buy  another  wife  when 
he  returns  to  Assouan.  He  is  but  twenty- three 
and  has  two  already.  Well  to  the  front  of  the 
ship,  with  these  fantastic  mountains,  the  sacred 

river,  and  that  gorgeous  temple  before  him,  P 

is  calmly  reading  the  Spectator,  The  sight  is 
too  much  for  my  composure,  I  double  up  with 
laughter  and  make  personal  remarks  to  him.  He 
merely  gazes  at  me  a  moment  over  the  rim  of 
his  glasses  and  continues, — 'reading  the  Spectator » 
I  may  anticipate  here  and  say  that  throughout 
all  our  days  in  many  lands  he  would  always  upon 
such  occasions, — read  the  Spectator;  until  finally 
the  appearance  of  that  journal  in  his  hands  always 
caused  us  to  look  abroad  for  some  object  of 
interest. 

Abu-Simbel  is  a  spot  to  be  visited  with  congenial 
spirits  only.  Therefore  we  have  waited  until 
even  our  little  crowd  is  on  its  return  to  the  boat. 


From  a  photograph  by  Sebah,  Nubia 

Abou-Simbel — Interior 


Our  Chameleon  9 

Seated  upon  thrones  and  towering  nearly  seventy- 
feet  above  us,  how  immense  the  colossi  appear, 
how  insignificant  ourselves!  The  prospect  they 
gaze  out  upon  is  save  for  our  boat  barren  of  all 
signs  of  human  life, — just  the  river,  and  beyond 
the  mountains  of  the  desert  stretching  off  and 
away  to  the  eastward.  There  is  no  sound  but 
the  wind  and  a  soft  hush,  hush  and  murmur 
which  puzzles  one  at  first,  but  is  discovered  to 
come  from  the  ever-moving  sand  descending  from 
the  cliff  above  which  seems  determined  here  to 
put  an  end  to  the  hours  of  Abu-Simbel.  It  has 
buried  the  temple  before  and  would  do  so  again 
but  for  the  hand  and  power  of  man. 

But  to  return.  The  English  naturalist,  who 
is  of  great  repute  at  Oxford,  has  spent  his  time 
rushing  over  the  steamer  and  clapping  pill  boxes 
over  innocent  looking  insects.  Yesterday  he  came 
back  with  quite  a  large  bright  green  and  most 
wise  looking  chameleon,  which  has  since  been 
slowly  starving  upon  a  beam  overhead,  and  from 
which  it  tumbles  with  a  flop  every  now  and  then 
to  the  hard  deck.  When  we  remonstrate  at  the 
apparently  cruel  treatment,  the  naturalist  shrugs 
his  shoulders  and  says  ''it  doesn't  matter  as  the 
thing  will  live  until  we  reach  IQiartoum  anyway. " 
My  decision  to  liberate  the  poor  creature  is  in- 
stantly taken  and  I  think  as  instantly  suspected 
by  the  wife  of  the  naturalist  who  keeps  a  furtive 
eye  on  me  every  time  the  boat  stops,  but  I  bide 
my  time. 


10  Islam  Lands 

At  Ab{l-Simbel,  those  two  most  worthy  people 
having  gone  ashore  with  the  crowd,  I  wait,  and, 
bagging  the  chameleon,  make  for  the  bushes.  I 
shall  always  insist  that  said  chameleon  winked 
at  me  as  I  opened  the  bag.  His  funny  old  face 
wrinkled  all  over  and  he  gave  utterance  to  a 
silent  Ha!  Ha!  as  with  great  deHberation  he 
stepped  forth  and  was  free.  Did  he  scurry  away? 
Not  a  bit  of  it,  but  sat  gravely  regarding  me  as  I 
departed,  with  an  expression  which  plainly  said, 
"Thanks  awfully,  old  chap,  but  I  would  not  be 
you  when  Madam  finds  I  am  gone.  However, 
you  meant  well,  so,  ta  ta, "  and  that  was  the  last 
I  saw  of  his  emerald  greenness,  and  I  soon  forgot 
him  and  all  else  in  the  presence  of  the  majestic 
temple  towering  above  me. 

Abu-Simbel,  meaning  **  Father  of  the  ear  of 
com, "  was  built  by  Rameses  H.,  called  the  Great, 
more  than  thirteen  hundred  years  before  Christ. 
The  featiires  of  the  colossi  are  as  clear-cut  as 
though  the  sculptor  had  but  yesterday  dropped 
his  chisel.  Yet  as  I  stand  before  them,  my 
thoughts  are  not  of  their  beauty  and  grandeur 
but  of  the  endless  panorama  which  has  passed 
before  them!  Small  wonder  if  even  stone  faces 
become  weary  with  the  watches. 

Miss  Edwards  speaks  of  one  of  the  faces  being 
whitened  but  there  is  no  trace  of  that  now.  All 
are  of  the  colour  of  the  mountains,  a  soft,  dull 
gold,  and  the  expression  of  tranquillity  I  have  never 
seen  equalled  in  any  other  figures  on  the  globe. 


The  Colossi  of  Abfi  ii 

The  temple  is  cut  out  of  the  solid  rock  and  but 
for  falling  and  rolling  fragments  from  the  moun- 
tain above  would  stand  unimpaired.  Nature 
has  spread  an  altar  cloth  of  vivid  green  before  it 
and  draperies  of  vivid  yellow  sand  flow  down  from 
the  mountains  on  either  side,  while  above  bends 
the  fathomless  deep  blue  sky  of  Ethiopia.  As 
our  boat  this  morning  glided  slowly  past,  the 
sitting  figures  almost  appeared  to  lean  forward 
and  regard  us,  but  as  we  see  them  nearer  they 
are  looking  far  off  across  the  river  to  the  eastern 
mountains  and  to  the  past,  or  perhaps  to  the  fu- 
ture. Their  faces  are  far  more  human  than  any 
other  in  the  land,  for  in  general  the  Egyptian 
carvings  are  not  human,  but  these  sitting  here 
in  close  companionship  throughout  the  ages  are 
indeed  very  human,  and  as  the  changing  lights 
and  shadows  play  upon  them,  almost  soften  into 
speech.  What  would  they  tell  us  if  the  seal  of 
silence  were  removed,  I  wonder.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  the  Sphinx  there  is  nothing  so  impressive 
in  all  the  land.  How  life-like  those  hands  appear 
resting  so  lightly  on  the  knees.  How  solemn,  how 
reposeful  it  all  is.  The  curtain  of  sand  to  the  right, 
falling  from  above  the  temple,  appears  almost  to 
have  been  drawn  aside  piuposely  to  reveal  the  mar- 
vel of  Africa.  If  you  have  never  seen  those  sands 
of  Africa,  no  description  will  make  you  appreciate 
what  they  are.  Here  they  swirl  downward  from 
the  cliff,  a  brilliant  orange  in  colour  and  fine  enough 
to  be  used  in  an  hour-glass.     In  attempting  to 


12  Islam  Lands 

reach  the  entrance  to  the  temple  one  sinks  to  the 
knees  and  arriving,  well  out  of  breath,  stands 
amazed.  Straight  into  the  mountain,  them- 
selves carved  out  of  it  where  they  stand,  are  two 
rows  of  gigantic  figures,  the  grandest  caryatids 
that  the  world  holds.  With  arms  crossed  on  their 
bosoms  they  face  each  other,  two  by  two,  and  show 
the  way  to  the  sanctuary.  What  profanation 
to  enter  here  as  a  tourist !  What  an  outrage  that 
guide!  One  regrets  the  days  of  Ismail  Pasha 
when  natives  could  be  murdered  at  will.  Cer- 
tainly the  will  to  do  so  is  with  us  and  we  retire 
until  he  has  completed  his  round  with  the  others 
and  departed.  Then,  in  the  solemn  silence  and 
hush  which  has  reigned  here  for  so  many  mil- 
lenniums we  feast  our  souls  with  Abu-Simbel. 
Pausing  an  instant  in  the  entrance  one  gazes 
inward  and,  far  off,  confronting  one,  sit  four 
dusky  figures.  Instantly  to  the  mind  come  the 
old  tales  of  enchantment  so  dear  to  our  childhood, 
and  for  a  moment  we  hesitate  to  enter.  Perhaps 
the  mountain  may  close  on  us,  who  knows?  How- 
ever, if  you  would  obtain  the  full  effect  of  the  tem- 
ple you  will  pass  inward  to  where  they  sit.  One 
is  the  great  god  Ra  (the  sun),  gazing  outward 
towards  the  living  sun,  and  if  you  are  fortimate 
to  be  here  when  the  latter,  rising  over  the  yellow 
mountains,  shines  full  in  the  face  of  the  former 
you  will  never  forget  it.  Ra  sits  in  the  holy  of 
holies,  two  hundred  feet  back  in  the  mountain, 
and  with  him  are  Khem  (or  Egypt),  Osiris,  and 


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History  In  Stone  13 

Isis,  and  for  thirty-three  centuries  they  have  sat 
here  always  in  the  darkness  save  once  a  day  when 
the  sun  shines  full  in  yonder  doorway,  turning 
all  the  temple  into  gold,  or  each  month  when  the 
full  moon  covers  all  with  silver. 

Exploring  the  temple  outward  we  find  that  it 
is  composed  of  several  chambers,  the  most  im- 
posing of  which  is  the  entrance  hall  with  its 
double  row  of  gigantic  Osiride  figures  supporting 
the  roof  some  twenty-five  feet  above  us.  The 
columns  which  back  them  as  well  as  the  walls  and 
ceilings  of  the  entire  temple  are  covered  closely 
with  illustrations  and  hieroglyphics  of  historical 
subjects. 

Was  the  knowledge  of  the  history  of  Egypt  so 
absolutely  necessary  to  these  latter  times  that 
it  was  ordained  that  it  be  so  marvellously  pre- 
served to  us?  Aside  from  all  the  authorities  and 
writers  from  those  inspired  downward  we  have 
from  here  to  the  sea  on  every  temple  and  obelisk, 
deeply  carved  in  enduring  stone  or  painted  in 
colours  which  are  as  distinct  to-day  as  when  laid 
on,  the  entire  record  most  wonderfully  told.  The 
outside  barbarians  with  all  their  desire  to  destroy 
have  done  but  comparatively  little  towards  their 
destruction.  The  great  temples  of  Dendera, 
Edfu,  Esna,  Philae,  and  Abu-Simbel  stand  abso- 
lutely perfect,  while  Kamak,  Medinet  Habu, 
Abydos,K6m  Ombo,and  many  others,  are  gigantic 
in  their  ruins  and  every  bit  of  stone  in  each  and 
all  is  covered  with  an  item  of  history  so  that  the 


14  Islam  Lands 

story  of  this  land  is  for  four  thousand  years  and 
more  confirmed  to  us  without  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt.  How  different  that  of  Europe.  That 
which  was  written  for  us  a  centiuy  ago  is  vastly 
changed  by  many  historians  of  to-day.  Was 
Lucrezia  Borgia  good  or  bad,  did  the  Maid  of 
Orleans  die  at  the  stake  or  live  to  bring  up  a 
family,  was  Henry  VII.  all  good  or  did  he  force 
history  to  be  written  to  suit  himself,  thereby 
causing  Richard  III.  to  be  coloured  very  black 
when  many  believe  him  otherwise,  and, — what 
was  the  fair  Queen  of  Scots?  If  she  had  lived 
in  Egypt  we  would  have  found  a  cartouche  or  so 
which  would  have  settled  the  question  (there  is 
no  doubt  about  Cleopatra).  All  this  is  most 
vividly  impressed  upon  the  beholder  here  in  Abu- 
Simbel,  where  the  walls  are  rich  with  records, 
and  then,  as  we  gaze  outward  across  the  glittering 
river  and  yellow  desert  and  into  the  eternal  skies, 
we  wonder  ''wherefore  were  we  bom,  for  evil  or 
for  good?"  Threescore  years  and  ten  and  we  are 
gone, — where?  If  you  have  retained  the  belief 
taught  you  at  your  mother's  knees  you  may 
answer  that  question,  but  never  otherwise. 

Here  on  these  walls  we  are  again  and  so  strongly 
impressed  with  man's  struggle  against  the  inev- 
itable forgetfulness  of  time,  against  oblivion. 
Rameses  II.,  called  the  great,  has  put  his  seal 
and  name  on  everything,  not  only  here,  but  wher- 
ever he  could,  all  down  the  river  to  the  sea,  not 
only  on  the  temples  and  obelisks,  but  upon  nearly 


Ambitious  Rulers  15 

every  papyrus  roll  in  the  land.  He  was  not  great 
in  anything,  save  perhaps  in  this,  but  he  succeeded, 
for  no  one  who  comes  this  way  will  forget  him.  A 
sort  of  Louis  XIV.,  he  resembled  the  French  King 
in  his  building  and  in  the  length  of  his  reign,  which 
was  but  four  years  shorter  than  that  of  the  Grand 
Monarque, — sixty-seven  years.  There  were  many 
kings  far  more  illustrious,  but  he  blew  his  own 
trumpet  to  great  effect,  and  is  called  ''the  great" 
in  consequence. 

There  are  some  monarchs  and  rulers  of  to-day 
who  are  trying  the  skme  thing.  We  shall  not 
live  to  know  the  result,  but  this  we  do  know,  that 
to  cause  their  names  to  be  remembered  for  four 
thousand  years  there  is  nothing  they  would  not 
do  to  the  nations  over  which  they  rule  or  have 
ruled  or  no  vengeance  or  punishment  too  great 
to  be  visited  upon  those  who  after  that  lapse  of 
time  shotdd  write  after  their  names  as  is  done 
after  that  of  this  King — "  no  title  to  be  called 
Greatr' 

All  this — or  something  like  it — will  doubtless 
cross  the  mind  of  the  thinking  man  as  he  gazes 
upon  these  solemn  old  gods  here  in  the  heart  of 
the  mountains,  but  turning,  the  change  is  like 
that  from  death  into  life  for  it  is  deathly  still  and 
dark  here  by  the  gods.  The  vision  roams  down 
the  shadowy  corridor,  past  the  gigantic  guardians 
standing  with  folded  arms  and  solemn  faces,  and 

1  Some  rulers  of  to-day  would  grant  him  that  title  in  that 
he  had  twenty-three  sons  and  seven  daughters. 


i6  Islam  Lands 

leaping  through  the  square  of  the  portal  is  off 
and  away  into  the  brilliant  sunshine  like  a  soul 
let  loose.  How  the  river  glitters!  How  the 
mountains  glow!  How  deeply  blue  the  sky! 
Everything  is  not  dead  after  all.  Here  in  the 
darkness  there  are  mutterings  and  movings  and 
the  swish  of  wings ;  only  bats,  but  one  has  a  very 
eerie  feeling  until  so  assured  and  glances  over 
one's  shoulder  to  see  if  these  four  gods  are  not 
engaged  in  some  sort  of  necromancy. 

Passing  outward  we  pause  a  moment  to  inspect 
the  efforts  of  another  vandal  to  make  his  name 
immortal,  "  Psammetichus. "  Though  one  must 
deplore  the  scribbling  and  carving  of  names  and 
dates  on  these  monimients,  yet  now  and  then 
they  impress  one  greatly  with  the  flight  of  time. 
It  was  a  strange  sensation  to  read  high  up  at 
Kamak  the  names  of  some  of  Napoleon 's  soldiers, 
who  had  come  up  there  sight-seeing  like  ourselves, 
but  how  much  more  so  here  at  Abu,  where  one 
finds  this  inscription  of  some  soldiers,  passers-by 
like  ourselves,  of  the  date  of  594  B.C.  or  more 
than  one  hundred  and  thirty  years  before  Herod- 
otus visited  Egypt.  They  regarded  Abil,  seven 
hundred  years  old  then,  as  we  do  the  castles  of 
England.  They  entered  Thebes  when  at  the  apex 
of  its  power,  saw  Kamak  in  its  perfect  state, 
and  passed  many  a  boat  of  the  dead  on  the  sacred 
river,  and  the  story  is  as  interesting  as  that  of 
the  ruler  of  the  land.  Stationed  at  Elephantine 
to  protect  the  country  from  the  Ethiopians  and 


irom  a  pnotograpn  by  the  Author 

The  Gordon  Statue,  Khartoum 


My  Crime  17 

having  been  there  years  without  being  relieved, 
they  passed  over  to  the  enemy,  pursued  by 
Psammetichus.  He  endeavoured  to  persuade  them 
to  return  to  their  country,  their  gods  and 
their  famihes,  but  without  avail.  They  were 
given  lands  by  the  Ethiopian  King  and  settled 
in  his  country,  thereby  in  time  producing  great 
effect  upon  the  civilisation  of  the  land.  They 
were  called  "Automoles, "  which  being  translated 
means  ''deserters."  They  were  also  called  "As- 
mach,"  or  those  who  stood  on  the  left  hand  of 
the  throne,  and  there  were  240,000  of  them. 
This  inscription  was  carved  by  the  soldiers  sent 
in  pursuit,  showing  that  men  in  those  days  were 
not  greatly  different  from  those  of  centuries  later. 

Somewhat  exhausted  with  our  inspection  we 
return  to  tea  on  the  boat  and  I  am  no  sooner 
happy  and  comfortable  than  an  awful  voice 
demands,  "Did  you  steal  my  chameleon?"  I 
can't  understand  why  I  am  always  suspected  of 
such  things,  but  it*s  useless  in  this  case  to  surmise 
or^deny  and  I  am  forced  to  listen  to  what  she 
thinks  of  my  crime  against  science.  However, 
she  can't  re-capture  the  chameleon  as  she  does  n't 
know  the  tree,  and  we  tell  her  she  will  be  abducted 
if  she  goes  ashore  after  dark,  which  is  not  alto- 
gether an  idle  threat. 

It  is  well  to  remember  that  it  is  but  a  few  years 
since  all  about  here  was  at  war  with  the  whites 
and  that  nothing  but  the  fear  of  the  whites  keeps 
matters  dormant  now. 


1 8  Islam  Lands 

Some  few  years  since  two  foreigners  left  their 
iDoat  for  a  stroll  after  dinner  and — never  came 
back.  So  to-night  when  two  of  the  maids  be- 
longing to  passengers  on  this  boat  started  out 
to  visit  the  German  boat  just  in  and  but  a  few 
hundred  yards  below  us,  the  captain  sent  a  guard 
after  them  in  post  haste.  He  said  it  would  be 
dangerous  to  visit  yonder  temple  not  one  eighth 
of  a  mile  away  unless  we  went  in  a  party,  but  as 
the  moonlight  is  not  strong  to-night  it  is  not 
worth  the  walk. 


CHAPTER  II 

Entrance  to  the  Sudan  — Wady-Halfa —  British  Occupation 
— Departure  for  Khartoum — The  Train — The  Journey — 
Atbara  River  Junction — First  Notice  of  Gordon — The 
Relief  Expedition — Mr.  Gladstone — Present  Day  Interest 
in  that  Period — Abu-H^med — Merawi — The  Worth  of 
this  Land — Arrival  at  Khartoum — Panorama  of  the 
City — First    Impressions. 

DAY  is  just  breaking  as  our  boat  moves  up  the 
river.  Some  thirty  miles  south  I  am  greeted 
with  the  call,  "Good  morning,  master,  we  are  in 
the  Sudan."  Abdallah's  black  face  gleams  with 
pleasure  as  he  announces  our  advent  to  that  land 
of  sadness,  horror,  and  both  lingering  and  sudden 
death.  It  is  green  and  smiling  along  the  river 
on  this  cool  morning.  Even  the  yellow  sands 
beyond  sparkle  as  though  in  happiness  and  the 
sakiyas  creak  with  joy  as  they  raise  the  life- 
giving  element  and  distribute  it  over  the  land 
where  without  it  all  would  be  dead  and  buried 
shortly.  Native  crafts  on  this  river  change  but 
little  as  the  millenniums  roll  by.  Yonder  boat  is 
the  same  shape  as  those  of  the  twelfth  dynasty. 
You  may  find  its  counterpart  painted  on  the  walls 
of  the  tombs.  So  the  people  dress  now  as  they 
did  then.     Their  houses  are  of  the  same  form  and 

19 


20  Islam  Lands 

materials,  always  of  mud.  Even  in  the  days  of 
her  glory  Egypt  boasted  but  few  houses  of  other 
material,  and  to-day  we  find  at  Medinet-Hab<i 
and  the  Remeseum  the  remains  of  the  only  stone 
palace  in  all  the  land.  Naturally  the  rise  of  the 
river  washed  away  all  which  it  touched  that  were 
not  of  stone,  and  as  it  was  no  labour  to  build, 
a  reconstruction  took  place  between  the  yearly 
floods.  Otherwise,  those  mud  palaces  might  have 
stood  for  ages.  This  is  the  case  in  Central  Asia, 
where  all  the  cities  are  built  of  mud ;  even  the  great 
mosque  in  Bokhara  and  the  Madrassies  of  Samar- 
kand are  of  mud  faced  in  tiles. 

It  is  stated  that  to  all  intents  and  purposes 
the  Sudan  is  a  British  colony.  One  is  tempted 
to  ask  if  Egypt  is  not  such  also.  Let  us  hope  so. 
However,  in  the  Sudan,  all  the  higher  officials 
are  English.  The  Governor-General  is  a  British 
officer,  the  Sirdar  of  the  Egyptian  army  is  nomi- 
nated by  the  Khedive  on  the  recommendation 
of  the  British  government,  and  cannot  be  removed 
without  its  consent.  Egypt  pays  the  cost  of  the 
army  and  makes  good  the  deficit  in  the  cost  of 
administration.  England  pays  the  interest  on 
the  Sudan  loan.  The  people,  impoverished  by 
the  long  years  of  the  Mahdist  tyranny,  are  not 
heavily  taxed,  hence  there  is  and  will  be  a  deficit 
for  some  years. 

If  one  would  shoot,  a  license  for  a  year  must  be 
obtained,  also  one  for  shooting  which  varies 
according  to  the  size  of  the  game,  and  there  is  an 


So  (U 

2  ^ 

o  •+-> 

-  a 

-  o 


U 

O 


■  i 

c 

1 

o 

'•  //^ 

o 

^  < 

■I 

t, '« 

Shooting  in  the  Sudan  21 

especial  fee  for  each  animal  shot,  while  giraffe, 
rhinoceros,  eland,  zebra,  and  onager  are  strictly 
preserved. 

Don't  come  to  Nubia  with  the  idea  that  you 
will  be  always  hot;  this  morning  it  is  so  cool  as 
we  move  up  the  river  below  Wady-Halfa  that  I 
am  driven  into  the  cabin  though  it  is  nearly 
eleven  a.m.,  bright,  fresh,  and  cool  as  an  early 
June  morning  at  home. 

Wady-Halfa  spreads  along  the  eastern  banks 
of  the  river,  a  pretty  panorama  of  varied  coloured 
houses,  blue,  yellow,  and  pink,  embowered  in 
acacia  trees,  with  a  minaret  piercing  the  blue  sky. 
A  few  boats  are  moored  by  the  bank,  amongst 
them  Lord  Roberts's  dahabeah  Cheops  await- 
ing his  return  from  Khartoum. 

Here  we  find  the  British  and  Egyptian  flags 
floating  side  by  side.  The  former  does  not  appear 
in  Egypt,  but  one  is  well  aware  of  its  close  prox- 
imity, with  all  which  that  means.  Yonder  is  a 
Sudanese  soldier,  black  as  night,  like  a  huge 
baboon  and  uniformed  in  yellow  khaki  and 
bright  scarlet, — while  just  behind  him  crawls  along 
a  poor  cripple  distorted  out  of  all  shape  by  the 
brutal  Khalifa  or  his  men.  Yet,  knowing  that 
such  things  would  certainly  happen  again  were 
the  English  rule  to  depart,  these  people  would 
welcome  the  change,  I  doubt  not. 

Just  here  the  river  is  twice  as  wide  as  at  Cairo. 
The  Nile  has  not  lost  its  lake-like  appearance 
since  we  left  Assouan.     Haifa  is  not  the  busy 


22  Islam  Lands 

place  it  once  was  as  the  opening  of  the  railway  to 
Port  Sudan  has  deflected  much  of  the  Khartoum 
trade  in  that  direction. 

The  air  from  over  the  river  blows  cool  and  fresh 
while  that  from  over  the  desert  comes  like  blasts 
from  a  furnace  as  we  wind  through  the  streets 
of  Haifa  towards  the  station.  The  train  de  luxe 
which  goes  twice  a  week  on  the  arrival  of  the 
steamers  is  long  and  low  like  those  in  India  and 
for  some  reason  best  kno\\Ti  to  the  porters  all 
the  berths  are  made  up,  though  it  is  but  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  However,  a  ''make- 
up" here  consists  of  only  a  sheet  and  pillow;  the 
former  is  promptly  rolled  up  and  tucked  away 
and  the  latter  is  in  constant  use.  There  is  the 
usual  mix-up, — one  car  is  reserved  for  Kamel 
Pasha  and  suite,  and  when  I  express  surprise 
that  camels  have  suites,  even  in  Egypt,  the  con- 
ductor tears  his  hair  as  he  ejaculates,  "No  sir, 
no  sir,  not  camel  but  Kamel  Pasha. "  I  don't  see 
the  difference  and  threaten  to  demand  my  money 
back  and  have  him  arrested  for  forcing  us  to  ride 
in  a  stock  train.  "But  sir,  I  assure  you  he  is  not 
a  camel  with  humps  but  a  very  nice  high  gentle- 
man."  All  the  time  the  gentleman  in  question 
calmly  regards  us  from  the  grandeur  of  his  "as- 
sured position"  in  that  car. 

How  hot  it  is!  I  fear  we  are  in  for  a  fearful 
twenty-four  hours  of  dust  and  heat.  Each  com- 
partment holds  an  electric  fan  and  we  have  a 
dining-car.     Miss  P 's  maid  discovers  that  the 


The  Khartoum  Train  23 

ladies*  dressing-room  holds  but  two  towels  and 
promptly  proceeds  to  steal  one  for  her  mistress 
and  one  from  the  other  room  for  us  men.  This 
we  have  marked  in  the  middle,  or  with  the  wisdom 
of  Solomon  we  may  cut  it  in  two.  While  the 
question  is  under  discussion  the  train  moves  and 
it  is  with  something  of  a  thrill  that  we  realise 
that  we  are  off  for  Khartoum. 

The  road  leaves  the  Nile,  with  all  that  that 
name  means  in  this  desolate  land,  and  plunges 
at  once  into  the  heart  of  the  desert.  As  far  as  the 
eye  can  see  nothing  is  to  be  discovered  but  bril- 
liant yellow  sand,  hot  and  sizzling,  over  which 
the  air  quivers  and  dances  as  though  in  antici- 
pation of  the  torment  to  which  it  will  shortly 
subject  us.  However,  having  twice  crossed  the 
black  sand  desert  of  Central  Asia,  I  do  not  dread 
this  greatly. 

How  simple  it  seems  to  blow  a  whistle  and  start 
out  over  these  rails,  few  remembering  what  it 
cost  in  lives  and  money  to  build  this  road  or  what 
its  building  meant  to  this  land,  for  the  first  step 
forward  towards  the  avenging  of  Gordon  came 
with  the  laying  of  those  rails  we  have  just  passed 
over. 

As  the  train  starts  the  conductor  passes  through 
and  distributes  all  sorts  of  Sudanese  literature, 
during  the  perusal  of  which  we  forget  all  about 
the  desolation  and  heat  outside,  and  when  we  do 
remember  it  the  heat  is  not  there,  at  least  so  far 
as  we  are  concerned.     A  cool  strong  wind  blows 


24  Islam  Lands 

through  the  windows  and  the  electric  fans  keep 
the  air  all  through  the  train  in  motion.  Along 
the  road  on  either  side  are  fences  and  barriers 
to  keep  off  the  drifting  sand,  which  moves  as 
easily  and  lightly  as  snow  at  home. 

The  night  ride  is,  on  the  whole,  much  more 
comfortable  than  I  had  anticipated.  While  the 
berths  were  hard,  the  dust  was  not  nearly  as  bad 
as  we  had  feared,  from  the  statements  of  other 
travellers,  that  it  would  be.  This  probably 
results  from  the  fact  that  these  trains  do  not 
move  fast  enough  to  produce  much  dust  and  the 
fans  drive  out  what  does  enter. 

Berber,  so  famous  in  the  late  war,  was  passed 
at  daylight,  and  Atbara,  the  jimction  for  Port 
Sudan,  was  reached  at  eight  a.m.  There  we 
waited  an  hour,  though  why,  it  would  be  difficult 
to  state  as  no  other  trains  arrived  or  departed; 
also  it  was  not  that  they  might  clean  out  the 
carriages,  as  they  made  no  effort  to  do  that. 

Here  we  cross  the  Atbara  River,  the  first  tribu- 
tary of  the  Nile,  and  we  do  so  on  the  bridge  built 
by  the  American  firm  against  all  other  com- 
petitors both  as  to  time  and  cost.  Since  two 
A.M.,  when  we  reached  Abu-Hamed,  the  rail- 
way has  run  along  the  east  banks  of  the  Nile, 
which  we  shall  not  again  lose  sight  of,  though  we 
are  at  no  point  near  enough  to  see  it  or  be  benefited 
by  its  cooling  influence,  if  it  has  any  in  this  hot 
land. 

Atbara  Junction  is  not  now  a  military  post, 


By  kind  permission  of  Captain  Amery 

The  Sons  of  the  Mahdi  and  Khahfa 


Our  First  of  Gordon  25 

but  is  an  important  point,  as  the  shops  and  sheds 
of  the  company  are  here.  I  have  just  heard  some 
EngHshmen  call  it  ''a  very  good  post."  Well, 
perhaps  so,  when  compared  with  some  others, 
but  as  I  stand  on  the  platform  the  prospect  is 
not  enchanting.  On  either  side  the  desert  sands 
stretch  away  in  a  dead  level,  covered  with  a 
desolate  grey  brush,  like  our  sage.  The  skeletons 
of  numerous  camels  which  have  long  since  found 
their  lives  not  worth  the  living  do  not  enliven  the 
scene  greatly,  though  some  pretty  gazelles  skipping 
off  and  away  give  indication  that  life  may 
exist  out  there.  Only  along  the  river  is  there  any 
point  where  human  life  would  be  possible. 

Lord  Cromer  states  that  if  England  had  sent 
soldiers  at  once  to  the  relief  of  Gordon  they  would 
have  had  to  be  Indian  or  Egyptian,  no  white 
man  could  endure  the  awful  march  between  Obok 
and  Berber  save  in  winter.  After  Ariah  there  is 
no  water.  General  Gordon  stated  that  "it  is 
quite  impossible  to  keep  British  troops  there  in 
simimer." 

"The  only  worry  I  have  is  that  you  will  dawdle 
away  your  time  and  do  nothing  until  too  late. 
If  you  would  only  put  your  pride  in  your  pocket 
and  get  by  good  pay  three  thousand  Turkish 
infantry  and  one  thousand  Turkish  cavalry  the 
affair,  including  the  crushing  of  the  Mahdi,  would 
be  accomplished  in  four  months." 

The  question,  "How  many  years  of  suffering 
and  horror,  how  much  money   and  bloodshed, 


26  Islam  Lands 

would  have  been  saved  had  his  advice  been 
followed?"  is  yet  heard  on  all  sides  in  this  land. 
He  dwelt  again  and  again  upon  this  the  last 
resort  for  preventing  the  triumph  of  the  Mahdi. 

When  Gordon  issued  his  formal  Proclamation  at 
Berber  and  Kliartoimi  he  was  opposed  to  such  a 
move,  but,  times  had  changed, — it  was  now  neces- 
sary and  he  knew  it.  He  was  told,  ''General 
Gordon  cannot  too  clearly  imderstand  that  these 
operations  cannot  receive  the  sanction  of  Her 
Majesty's  Government,  and  that  they  are  beyond 
the  scope  of  his  mission."  In  other  words,  he 
was  meddling  and  presuming.  Still,  Lord  Cromer 
thinks 

"As  a  choice  of  evil  sit  was  preferable  in  the  interests 
of  England,  of  Egypt,  of  the  civilised  world  in  general, 
and  of  the  people  of  the  Sudan  that  the  Mahdi  should 
obtain  possession  of  the  country  rather  than  that 
it  should  be  handed  over  to  the  Sultan.  Dervish 
rule  was  an  evil  but  it  could  be  foreseen  that  it  would 
be  temporary  and  could  be  confined  to  the  Sudan. 
A  Tiukish  occupation  covering  all  Egypt  would  have 
been  an  evil  of  a  more  permanent  nature  and  was 
almost  irreconcilable  with  the  idea  of  a  future  Egyp- 
tian reconquest." 

There  is  much  in  that  statement.  Even  the 
casual  observer  can  imagine  what  a  permanent 
Turkish  rule  in  Egypt  would  mean  to  all  the  world. 
It  makes  but  little  difference  in  Turkey  itself,  as 
that  country  is — as  it  were — off  in  a  comer,  but 


Gladstone  27 

Egypt  is  on  a  great  highway  of  the  world 
necessary  to  all  nations. 

General  Gordon  did  not  at  first  appear  to  re- 
member that  these  people  were  far  different  from 
the  Chinese.  There  he  had  a  nation  which  had 
been  semi-civilised  for  centuries,  here  he  had  to 
deal  with  wild  beasts,  fresh  from  the  deserts  and 
rabid  for  blood.  As  an  organiser  General  Gordon 
was  all  that  could  be  desired,  in  time  of  peace 
he  would  have  made  a  good  Sirdar,  doubtless, 
but  in  war,  another  stamp  of  man  was  needed, 
such  as  Kitchener.  The  very  fact  that  he  did 
not  restore  that  breach  in  the  wall  shows  that  he 
had  but  slender  hope  of  succour  from  the  north. 
Khartoum  did  not  fall  by  treachery  (the  man  so 
accused  was  one  of  the  first  to  fall  at  the  hands 
of  the  entering  Arabs)  but  by  the  ''incapacity 
or  stupidity  of  Downing  Street."  It  has  been 
said  that  the  late  Mr.  Gladstone  never  saw  any 
of  the  adverse  criticism  in  the  press  of  himself 
or  his  work,  that  Mrs.  Gladstone  was  most  par- 
ticular as  to  that.  If  so,  was  she  not  to  blame 
for  many  of  his  wrong  moves,  for  how  are  we  to 
know  we  are  wrong  if  we  read  only  that  we  are 
right,  if  we  never  know  what  our  critics  say  of  us? 
Do  we  not  learn  more  from  an  honest  critic  than 
from  otir  friends  who  simply  flatter  and  thereby 
destroy? 

Evidently,  the  late  Premier  never  believed 
that  he  had  made  a  mistake  in  the  Sudan,  for 
if  the  above  is  correct  he  was  never  told  that  the 


28  Islam  Lands 

outer  world  thought  so,  though  he  certainly  heard 
it  plainly  stated  in  the  House  of  Commons. 
However,  if  he  had  that  work  to  do  over,  would  he 
not  do  just  as  he  did  do  in  1884,  having  learned 
nothing  by  his  former  blunders  or  experience, 
call  it  what  you  will?  It  is  rarely  that  recent 
history  holds  much  interest  for  us — we  are 
generally  very  tired  of  it  in  a  short  space  of  time, 
but  the  contrary  holds  in  the  -Sudan.  The 
events  of  the  past  ten  years  are  so  constantly 
to  the  fore  that  one  finds  oneself  discussing  them 
at  any  and  all  times.  On  the  train,  on  the  plat- 
form or  boat  a  word  will  suffice  and  one  is  shortly 
in  the  midst  of  those  scenes  and  times,  living  them 
over  again  and  again — but  let  us  drop  the  subject 
now  and  return  to  the  present. 

At  Abu-Htoied  I  noticed  a  line  which  stretched 
away  westward  and  wondered  where  it  could 
reach  to  in  that  direction.  Its  termination  is 
not  many  miles  off  at  the  Fourth  Cataract  at 
the  foot  of  which  is  Merawi,  the  ancient  capital 
of  the  Ethiopian  queens  of  the  Candace  dynasty. 

Watching  the  unrolling  of  the  panorama  of 
central  Africa  the  question  constantly  comes  to 
the  mind:  "In  itself,  is  this  land  worth  anything 
to  any  nation?**  My  old  friend,  Leigh  Hunt, 
will  say  yes,  but  I  noticed  he  departed  as  soon  as 
he  could.  Colonel  Stewart  in  a  letter  to  the  Earl 
Cromer,    before   the   fall   of   Khartoum,    states, 

**The  best  of  these  towns,  Khartoum,  is  but  a  col- 
lection of  mud  huts,  which,  if  destroyed  to-day,  could 


The  Mahdi's  Tomb  the  Morning  after  the 
Battle  of  September  2,  1898 


Value  of  the  Sudan  29 

be  rebuilt  to-morrow.  This  country  is  only  intended 
by  nature  for  nomad  tribes  and  a  few  Arabs  by  the 
Nile.  It  annoys  one  greatly  to  see  the  blood  and 
treasure  wasted  on  it." 

As  a  link  in  the  chain  from  Cape  Town  to  East 
Africa,  it  certainly  would  not  do  for  England  to 
allow  any  other  nation  to  hold  the  Sudan,  but 
for  that  reason  alone.  At  least,  so  it  would  ap- 
pear to  the  traveller  here  to-day.  Those  few 
gazelles  are  the  only  sign  of  life  which  has  greeted 
our  eyes,  though  the  phantoms  of  the  mirage  have 
peopled  every  mile  of  the  route. 

The  afternoon  shadows  lengthen  and  the  sun 
loses  somewhat  of  its  fierce  directness  and  awful 
heat.  One  might  live  out  there  now  with  care; 
but  how  this  ride  takes  it  out  of  one!  How 
smothered  in  sand  and  heat  one  feels,  and  how 
delicious  blow  the  winds  from  the  Blue  Nile  and 
down  out  of  Abyssinia ! 

At  last  our  train  rolls  into  a  large  station  with 
arched  top.  Hotel  porters  meet  us  and  confiscate 
everything,  so  that  I  carry  nothing  but  my  cane 
as  I  stroll  out  onto  a  high  terrace  above  the  river, 
and  behold  the  first  sight  of  the  famous  city  of 
Khartoum. 

The  Blue  Nile  rolls  at  our  feet,  broad  and  blue 
and  delicious,  and  how  delicious  you  will  never 
realise  until  after  such  a  day's  ride.  On  the  opposite 
bank  amidst  a  waving  ocean  of  acacia  trees  rise  the 
towers  and  roofs  of  the  city,  while  far  to  the 
right,  across  the  White  Nile,  one  catches  a  gHmpse 


30  Islam  Lands 

of  the  grim  Arab  town  of  Omdurman,  whose  grisly 
horrors  are  of  such  recent  date,  and  which  is  so 
peaceful  now.  Far  beyond  it,  and  in  fact,  beyond 
and  around  everything,  rolls  the  desert,  crimson 
imder  the  afterglow,  like  a  vast  congealed  ocean, 
only  waiting  the  word  of  command  to  wake  into 
motion  and  overwhelm  all  living  things  here- 
abouts, returning  the  world  to  its  primeval  state. 
It  is  claimed  that  twelve  thousand  years  ago 
there  was  no  Nile  and  that  to-day  it  would  not 
be  difficult  just  north  of  here  to  turn  the  river 
into  the  Red  Sea  at  Port  Sudan,  that  not  much  of 
a  ditch  is  needed,  and  the  waters  would  speedily 
do  the  rest.  Imagine  the  fate  of  Egypt  if  that 
occurred.  What  a  horror  of  desolation  one 
would  find  all  down  that  green  enchanting  valley ! 
The  ferry  from  the  station  passes  the  front  of 
the  city  for  quite  a  mile  to  the  hotel.  To  the 
left  up  the  Blue  Nile  is  the  railway's  bridge  to  the 
city  proper,  as  yet  incompleted.  Near  it,  rises 
the  tower  of  the  Gordon  Memorial  College,  then 
long  lines  of  villas  embowered  in  tropical  trees. 
The  palace  where  Gordon  died  fills  the  centre  of 
the  picture  and  is  succeeded  by  more  villas  in 
extensive  compounds.  The  native  town  lies 
back  of  all  this,  and  one  catches  a  glimpse,  as  the 
ferry  moves  along,  of  the  tower  of  the  mosque 
built  by  the  English.  It  is  well  after  sunset  when 
we  reach  the  Grand  Hotel  and  find  comfortable 
rooms  and  baths  awaiting  us.  As  we  enter  we 
are  greeted  by  some  roaring  lions  in  a  neighbouring 


Khartoum's  Brass  Band  31 

garden, — not  that  I  would  have  you  think  that 
lions  are  exactly  domestic  here  and  take  the  place 
of  dogs,  but  in  cages.  But  the  animal  which 
impresses  his  existence  upon  one  most  insistently 
is  the  everlasting  donkey,  here  called  ''the  brass 
band  of  Khartoum."  If  one  of  them  lifts  up  his 
voice  in  prayer  or  praise,  every  other  donkey 
anywhere  near  and  anywhere  far  joins  in  the 
chorus  and  shortly,  from  the  Arab  town  south, 
from  North  Eliartoum,  from  grisly  Omdurman 
on  the  west,  wails  forth  the  music,  and  I  doubt 
not  that  it  is  passed  from  donkey  to  donkey  all 
down  the  Nile  to  Alexandria  and  across  the  isth- 
mus to  Arabia,  through  the  Holy  Land,  over  the 
mountains  of  Lebanon  past  Ararat  and  on  into 
Persia  imtil  the  entire  Orient  is  in  discord.  I 
think  that  there  is  a  donkey  in  our  compound 
which  acts  as  leader,  as  he  generally  starts  the 
racket — there  he  goes  now.  Is  it  joy  or  sorrow, 
a  lament  over  fallen  state,  or  indigestion?  Does 
he  remember  and  regret  his  high  place  in  that 
flight  into  Egypt?  Some  day  we  shall  understand. 
In  the  meantime,  we  listen  in  sympathy  during 
the  day  and  are  roused  in  terror  from  sleep. 
To-night  I  am  brought  half  awake  out  on  to  the 
veranda  by  an  outburst,  only  to  find  all  the  world 
asleep,  while  the  Southern  Cross  sparkles  in  the 
dark  blue  heavens  before  me,  and  turning  north- 
ward, I  can  just  discern  the  Great  Dipper  as  it 
vanishes  below  the  horizon.  One  begins  to  feel 
far  from  home  when  one  can  no  longer  see  Ursa 


32  Islam  Lands 

Major, — when  strange  constellations  sparkle  over- 
head one  is  lost. 

How  profound  the  peace  and  repose  of  the  city 
to-night!  I  feel  tempted  to  mount  yonder  white 
camel  asleep  under  a  mimosa  tree  and  so  wander 
off  into  the  town,  anywhere,  everywhere,  and  I 
could  do  so  in  safety,  where  but  a  few  years  ago 
my  life  would  not  have  been  worth  purchase, 
might  cross  the  river,  and  all  alone,  save  for  the 
camel  and  the  moon,  enter  the  very  house  of 
the  IQialifa  to  be  greeted  with,  "Have  a  whiskey 
and  soda,  old  man."  All  the  grisly  horrors  of 
ten  years  are  over  and  done  with,  at  least  while 
England  stays  here,  and  I  know  of  no  more  pro- 
foundly peaceful  scene  than  this  spread  out 
below  me  in  the  moonlight  to-night. 


6 


CHAPTER  III 

Climate  of  Khartoum — Our  Hotel — History  of  the  City — 
Advancing  Civilisation — First  Walk  through  the  City — 
Greek  Traders — Khartoum's  Brass  Band — Panorama 
of  the  Niles — First  Glimpse  of  Slatin  Pasha. 

THE  morning  air  has  almost  a  tang  of  the 
north  as  I  come  out  on  the  veranda  en 
route  to  my  bath.  This  cHmate  at  this  season  is 
far  better  than  the  same  latitude  in  India;  while 
there  is  often  coolness  in  the  air  there,  there  is 
never  the  same  degree  of  life  in  it.  I  draw  my 
robe  around  me  and  shuffle  along  at  a  lively  rate, 
passing  numerous  bedrooms  whose  doors  and 
windows  stand  wide  open  to  the  air — and  showing 
their  occupants  deep  in  slumber.  Servants  must 
be  honest  hereabouts,  nothing  is  ever  locked  up. 
The  waters  of  the  blue  Nile  are  curled  into 
little  waves  by  the  wind  and  even  the  limitless 
desert  appears  a  pleasant  spot  just  now,  while 
the  air  is  so  clear  that  one  can  distinctly  see  the 
town  of  Omdurman  and  beyond  it  the  place 
where  the  battle  was  fought. 

In  the  compound  below  me  a  gaily  caparisoned 
white  camel  is  grunting  and  groaning  as  it  rises 
and  stalks  away  with  our  landlord,  a  comfortable 

3  33 


34  Islam  Lands 

German  enthroned  on  high  for  his  morning  ride. 
Strange  birds  are  squawking  in  the  neighbouring 
compoimd  and  now  and  then  the  roar  of  a  Hon 
Hvens  things  up  a  bit. 

After  a  comfortable  breakfast  we  are  off  for 
our  first  inspection  of  this  famous  city.  It  is 
difficult  to  beHeve  that  less  than  ten  years  ago  it 
was  all  in  ruins,  yet  those  who  know  the  effect  of 
the  heat  in  summer  together  with  the  sand-storms 
realise  that  it  would  promptly  return  to  a  ruinous 
state  if  left  to  itself  and  without  the  assistance 
of  the  war. 

Khartoum  means  elephant's  trunk,  that  long 
strip  of  land  between  the  Niles  yonder  being  that 
shape.  ' 

The  foundation  of  Khartoum  occurred  in  1821 
and  was  the  result  of  a  tragedy  which  occurred  at 
Shendi;  when  Mohammed  Ali's  son  and  General 
Ishmail  Pasha  were  attending  a  feast  at  the 
palace  after  his  raid  up  the  White  Nile,  he  was, 
with  his  Egyptian  officers,  burnt  to  death,  the 
palace  having  been  set  on  fire  by  the  treacherous 
Sultan  of  Nubia,  his  host. 

Mohammed  Ali  sent  a  new  army  which  de- 
stroyed Shendi,  drove  the  Sultan — Nime — into 
Abyssinia,  annexed  Kordofan,  and  foimded  Khar- 
toum which  succeeded  Shendi  as  the  capital  of 
Upper  Nubia. 

We  passed  through  Shendi  about  noon  yester- 
day, but  I  have  no  recollection  what  it  looked  like, 
though  it  is  said  to  have  a  large  population,  all 


Foundation  of  Khartoun  35 

native,  I  suppose.  To-day  it  is  an  important 
camp. 

Just  across  the  river  are  the  wells  of  Abu-Klea 
where  the  last  battle  but  one  in  the  vain  attempt 
to  save  Gordon  was  fought.  Colonel  Bumaby, 
who  wrote  The  Ride  to  Khiva,  was  killed  there. 
General  Stewart  advanced  from  there  to  Gubat 
on  the  river  and  fought  again.  Shendi  was  then 
bombarded  and  Metemma  taken,  and  from  there 
Sir  Charles  Wilson  sailed  for  Khartoum,  only  to 
find  all  had  ended  there  just  two  days  before. 
That  boat  is  now  at  IQiartoum. 

Khartoum  is  twelve  hundred  and  forty  feet 
above  the  sea  and  in  winter  has  a  delightful 
climate,  far  superior  to  Cairo.  Its  population  was 
forty  thousand  before  the  siege  and  is  some  thirty 
thousand  at  the  present  time. 

It  is  now  laid  out  on  an  imposing  plan  and 
holds  some  stately  buildings,  notably  the  Gordon 
College,  the  Palace,  and  the  Mosque.  Wide 
avenues  lead  away  from  the  esplanade  on  the 
river  and  are  intersected  by  others  of  equal 
width. 

There  is  a  steam  tram  which  runs  to  the  ferry 
for  Omdurman,  usually  crowded  with  natives 
who  grin  at  you  in  the  most  friendly  fashion,  just 
as  they  would  have  cut  your  throat,  also  in  a 
friendly  fashion,  ten  years  ago. 

"In  no  other  part  of  the  world  has  so  great  a 
change  taken  place  during  the  last  fifteen  years  as 
in  the  Sudan. 


36  Islam  Lands 

"Fifteen  years  ago  Omdurman  was  the  capital 
of  one  of  the  most  barbarous  tyrannies  that  the  world 
has  ever  known;  the  town  was  an  overcrowded  mass 
of  hovels,  with  disease  and  distress  rampant;  now 
is  its  modem  representative,  Khartoimi,  the  centre  of 
a  rapidly  advancing  civilisation.  It  possesses,  in 
the  Gordon  Memorial  College,  an  educational  insti- 
tution of  which  any  city  might  be  proud,  and  it  has 
an  organisation  for  scientific  research  which  is  hardly 
surpassed  in  the  extent  of  its  work  and  the  zeal  of  its 
workers  by  any  country  in  the  world,  and  this  re- 
search laboratory  has  just  issued  its  third  report. 
Khartoum  is  no  ancient  city;  eighty  years  ago  there 
may  have  been  a  few  fishermen's  huts  on  the  site 
but  nothing  more.  In  1821  or  thereabouts  Moham- 
med Ali  doubtless  chose  that  situation,  low-lying 
alluvial  soil  though  it  may  be,  because  it  is  placed  on 
the  tongue  of  land  lying  between  the  Blue  Nile  and 
the  White  Nile  at  their  junction,  and  so  it  was  de- 
fended on  two  sides  by  the  rivers.  It  is  little  above 
the  level  of  the  rivers  between  which  it  lies.  It  would 
have  been  difficult  to  discover  a  more  unsuitable 
site  for  the  founding  of  a  city,  but  here  Mohammed 
Ali  established  a  fortified  camp,  and  from  that  be- 
ginning a  town  grew  up.  We  hear  from  time  to  time 
of  the  increasing  size  of  Khartoum;  by  1850  the  popu- 
lation had  reached  some  30,000.  There  was  a  large 
garrison,  10,000  infantry  and  2000  cavalry;  but  the 
streets  were  narrow  and  tortuous,  though  here  and 
there  a  space  resembling  a  square  cotdd  be  found. 
After  rain  the  streets  were  impassable,  and  no  one 
attempted  to  go  out  of  his  house  until  the  sandy  soil 
had  absorbed  the  rain.     Sir  Samuel  Baker  visited  the 


Old  Khartoum  37 

city  in  1862,  and  he  describes  it  as  a  miserable,  filthy, 
and  unhealthy  spot.  The  houses  were  chiefly  built 
of  unburnt  brick,  and  every  house  was  overcrowded. 
There  was  an  utter  absence  of  drainage,  and  epi- 
demics were  common.  The  town  improved  a  little, 
and  by  1880  large  Government  buildings  and  a  good 
hospital  had  been  finished.  Many  good  private 
houses  and  large  shops  were  built,  but  all  this  was 
swept  away  by  the  Mahdi  and  the  Khalifa,  and 
Omdurman  was  built  lower  down  on  the  left  hand  of 
the  Nile.  Khartoum  City  is  still  seated  on  the  penin- 
sula between  the  Blue  and  White  Niles,  that  is  to 
say," on  the  southern  bank  of  the  Blue  Nile;  the  low 
alluvial  ground  is  still  liable  to  be  flooded  whenever 
the  river  is  specially  high.  The  northern  bank  of 
the  Blue  Nile  is  markedly  higher  ground,  and  on  this 
bank  it  was  wisely  resolved  to  place  the  new  city,  or 
Khartoum  North,  as  it  is  called.  Here  are  the  rail- 
way station,  the  barracks,  and  also  a  large  native 
settlement.  "1 

But  to  return  to  our  inspection. 

We  pass  the  Coptic  Church,  a  stately  structure 
next  this  hotel,  and  just  beyond  enter  the  com- 
pound of  Col.  Asser  to  call  and  present  a  letter. 
The  grounds  are  beautiful,  full  of  stately  trees 
and  flowering  shrubs,  while  the  house,  a  com- 
modious structure  of  two  stories  surrounded  by 
wide  double  verandas,  is  completely  covered  by  a 
vine  resembling  our  woodbine. 

1  Third  Report  of  the  Wellcome  Research  Laboratory  at 
the  Gordon  Memorial  College,  Khartoum.  By  Andrew 
Balfour,  M.D.,  B.Sc,  F.R.C.P.  Edin.,  D.P.H.,  Cantab. 
Director.     Balliere,  Tindall,  and  Cox. 


38  Islam  Lands 

Col.  Asser  is  off  on  inspection,  but  we  are  greeted 
pleasantly  by  his  wife,  who  proves  to  be  an  Amer- 
ican. Unfortunately  that  was  the  last  time  we 
met  her  as  an  attack  of  illness  housed  her  for  the 
rest  of  our  visit. 

A  few  days  later  in  the  cool  hours  we  take  tea 
at  the  house,  or  rather  out  on  the  lawn,  which 
is  covered  with  luxuriant  grass.  The  latter  grows 
better  and  is  of  a  better  quality  than  any  in  Egypt. 
The  trees,  thirty  feet  high,  were  planted  only  a 
few  years  ago.  We  are  fortunate  in  meeting 
Col.  Asser,  a  handsome  man  in  the  prime  of  Hfe, 
who  does  not  look  as  though  he  had  seen  much 
hard  service,  but  I  discover  quite  accidentally 
that  he  was  at  the  battle  of  Omdurman  and  has 
been  in  the  Sudan  ever  since.  He  married  an 
American,  which  undoubtedly  accoimts  for  his 
endurance.  (No  conceit  about  this  is  there?) 
But  to  return. 

Passing  onward  we  are  shortly  in  front  of  the 
Palace  of  the  Sirdar,  and  entering  its  court  are 
almost  at  once  upon  the  spot  where  Gordon  fell. 
To-day  it  is  a  bower  of  beautiful  trees  and  gurgling 
fountains.  Away  from  its  rear  entrance  stretches 
a  wide  avenue,  and  in  the  near  distance  rises  a 
stately  montunent  to  the  man  who  waited  and 
watched  and  died  just  here.  He  is  mounted  on 
a  camel  and  faces  outward  towards  the  desert, 
and  it  is  said  that  long  after  the  unveiling, 
native  women  gathered  around  it,  convinced  that 
it  was  "the  good  Pasha, "  come  back  to  them  once 


Greek  Traders  39 

more.  But  the  sad  face  gave  no  sign  of  life,  and 
finally  they  turned  away  weeping  bitterly;  but 
let  us  pass  onward  leaving  the  sad  subject  of  his 
death  until  we  have  seen  the  city  where  his  last 
struggle  took  place. 

The  traders  of  this  land  are  the  Greeks, — one 
sees  them  squatting  in  all  the  cafes  and  under  the 
arcades  like  black  beetles  which  it  would  be  a 
pleasure  to  crush,  for  their  cunning,  servile  faces 
are  full  of  evil  and  dishonesty.  They  do  not 
seem  to  be  of  any  nation  or  race,  and  it  made 
little  difference  to  them  whether  Mahdi  or  Gordon 
governed  here, — they  appeared  to  come  and  go 
as  they  liked,  much  like  the  mongrel  dogs  of  the 
land.  Slatin  speaks  of  them  in  Omdurman  under 
the  Khalifa  and  I  doubt  not  one  would  find  them 
in  any  section  of  darkest  Africa, — certainly  they 
are  a  most  unpleasant  looking  lot,  not  unlike 
the  Eurasians  of  India.  To-day  in  moving  around 
and  through  the  stores  of  Khartoum,  of  which 
there  are  plenty  of  good  ones,  we  never  left  or 
entered  one  of  them  that  some  of  these  Greeks 
did  not  peer  into  our  faces  with  a  most  evil  ex- 
pression. I  should  not  care  to  meet  them  in  a 
lonely  section  either  in  the  night  or  day. 

The  heat  is  always  great  here  in  the  middle  of 
the  day  and  though  this  is  January  we  scurry 
across  the  great  square  to  the  shelter  of  the  arcades 
and  there  pause  to  look  around  a  bit. 

The  square  is  spacious  and  surrounded  with 
good  business  blocks,  wide  avenues  stretch  away 


40  Islam  Lands 

on  all  sides  until  lost  in  the  desert.  Towards  the 
Palace  a  park  has  been  started  which  it  will  be 
diffictdt  to  maintain  save  in  winter — the  fiery 
blast  of  summer  will  surely  return  the  soil  to  its 
desert  conditions  imless  an  abimdance  of  water 
is  at  hand. 

As  I  wait  a  moment  in  the  door  of  one  of  the 
shops,  my  eyes  rove  off  down  one  of  the  avenues 
to  the  circle  from  which  rises  the  statue  of  Gordon 
already  referred  to  and  even  now  some  native 
women  stand  before  it  with  grave  upturned  ques- 
tioning faces, — ^he  was  their  friend  and  they  do 
not  forget. 

The  government  allows  no  one  to  interfere 
with  the  religion  of  these  people,  in  fact,  it  is 
building  a  splendid  mosque,  quite  the  equal  of 
that  of  Sultan  Hassan  in  Cairo,  and  to-day  no 
infidel  is  allowed  to  enter  these  holy  places. 

The  business  portion  of  Khartoum,  lying  back 
from  the  river,  is  laid  off  in  very  wide  streets,  and 
there  are  some  very  good  buildings  containing 
stores,  where  about  all  one  may  desire  can  be 
purchased;  but  how  hot  it  is  away  from  the  river! 
The  wind  seems  to  die  away  as  if  by  magic  when 
you  go  a  block  inland  and  the  heat  will  drive  you 
to  cover  promptly  if  you  have  been  indiscreet 
enough  to  come  out  in  midday. 

The  residents  here  claim  that  the  climate  of 
Omdurman  is  much  to  be  preferred  to  that  of 
Khartoum,  that  it  is  not  so  muggy.  Certainly  I 
felt  nothing  muggy  in  the  deHcious  air  which 


aiti4f'*tf'iiliihir?fi't  ^^gfei'-  s^k^li^^ ' 


Modern  Khartoum  41 

swept  our  veranda  and  rooms  high  over  the  Blue 
Nile  and  the  glittering  atmosphere  of  Omdurman 
tired  my  eyes  and  made  my  head  ache.  Yet 
Khartoum  away  from  the  river  presents  a  very 
lonely  appearance.  It  holds  none  of  the  socia- 
bly narrow  streets  or  shadowy  bazars  of  the 
ordinary  Oriental  town.  Its  wide  streets  and 
low  houses  appear  to  grow  tired  of  each  other  and 
lapse  into  the  desert.  The  houses  of  the  Euro- 
peans all  face  the  Blue  Nile,  forming  a  long  es- 
planade with  the  Palace  in  the  centre. 

Beyond  it  they  continue  for  a  mile  or  more, 
ending  in  a  great  structure  of  red  brick,  the  Gordon 
Memorial  College,  which  we  enter  to  call  upon 
Captain  Archibald. 

As  it  is  afternoon  when  we  do  this  there  is  no 
one  about  in  all  the  vast  structure,  so  selecting  a 
room  which  looks  like  an  office,  we  shove  cards 
and  letter  under  the  door  and  depart,  trusting 
to  luck  and  the  existence  of  a  considerate  "Bridget" 
who  will  not  sweep  them  into  the  dust  heap. 

We  learn  later  that  every  one  has  gone  to 
polo, — natives  and  all, — and  we  meet  the  lot  as  we 
return  homeward. 

One  does  not  do  very  much  each  day  in  these 
hot  lands  and  we  have  done  enough  for  to-day, 
so  returning  to  the  upper  veranda  have  tea 
amongst  the  tree-tops,  first  having  ordered  the 
Khartoum  brass  band,  i.  e.,  donkeys,  tethered 
in  the  court  to  be  removed  as  distantly  as  possible. 
I  wonder  if  that  big  donkey  recognises  a  kindred 


42  Islam  Lands 

soul  in  my  humble  self.  Certainly  I  never  appear 
that  he  does  not  lift  his  voice  in  greeting  or 
lamentation  as  the  case  may  be.  If  it 's  a  com- 
pliment, on  the  order  of  "God  save  the  King" 
I  do  not  appreciate  it,  having  but  one  set  of  drums 
to  my  ears. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  prospect  spread  out 
from  our  balcony  in  this  hotel.  Up  amongst 
the  tops  of  the  waving  acacias  we  feel  like  Peter 
Pan.  The  river  bank  is  high  and  the  blue  water 
rolls  placidly  below  us,  dotted  with  curious 
craft  and  many  graceful  lateen  sails.  A  green 
plain  stretches  off  before  us  and  far  away  the 
united  waters  of  the  two  rivers  take  their  course 
to  the  sea,  while  on  the  horizon  the  yellow  deserts 
stretch  away  on  either  hand  and  in  the  centre 
one  flat-topped  mountain  marks  the  site  of  the 
famous  battle-field.  Against  the  crimson  glow 
of  evening  some  vultures  are  slowly  floating,  and 
the  whole  is  so  still.  Truly  the  rush  and  roar 
of  our  world  has  no  place  in  Khartoum. 

From  this  porch  of  ours  we  look  northward 
down  the  Nile,  and  can  see  coming  round  the 
farthest  bend  the  smoke  of  a  steamboat.  The 
scene  is  exactly  the  same  over  which  Gordon's 
weary  eyes  wandered  all  those  long  months, 
except  that  I  see  what  he  so  longed  to  see, — that 
puff  of  black  smoke,  which  to  him  and  the  poor 
people  under  him  would  have  meant  salvation, 
rescue,  life,  meant  an  escape  from  that  awful 
death  for  him  and  torture  for  those  imder  him. 


View  from  the  Hotel  43 

One  boatload,  giving  heart  to  the  people,  and 
showing  that  he  knew  what  he  stated  when  he 
said  ''they  will  come"  would  have  saved  the  day; 
but  it  took  long  to  dine  and  consider  in  Downing 
Street,  and  so  Gordon  died.  Two  days  after, 
two  boats  came  round  yonder  bend  in  the  river, 
but  finding  the  flag  down,  knew  that  they  were 
too  late  and  sailed  away  again,  and  darkness  for 
fourteen  years  settled  over  the  Sudan,  reducing 
it  from  a  populous,  prosperous  country  to  a  desert 
almost  unpeopled. 

Night  falls  suddenly  in  the  tropics  and  the 
stars  are  twinkling  as  though  day  had  never 
been  as  we  descend  to  dinner.  In  advance  of  the 
others  I  wait  in  the  hallway,  the  only  other 
occupant  being  a  little  man  with  bright  eyes  and 
brown  moustaches — a  stocky  man  with  a  strong 
German  accent.  Sir  Rudolph  Von  Slatin  Pasha, 
one  time  donkey  boy  for  the  late  Khalifa,  and 
upon  whom  it  is  said  his  master  forced,  with  a 
gleaming  smile  on  his  devilish  face,  some  of  the 
worst  old  hags  in  Omdurman  as  wives  and  saw  to 
it  that  it  was  not  a  marriage  in  name  only.  "You 
are  a  disciple  of  the  prophet  now  and  must  act 
as  such.  Live  the  life  or  you  die."  Of  course 
with  the  triumph  of  the  British  Slatin  forgot  all 
that,  and  does  not  like  to  have  it  remembered  by 
others,  but  the  dragoman  to  Omdurman  will  show 
you  where  the  ladies  lived.  The  natives  hold 
this  man  in  high  contempt  as  one  who  has  fore- 
sworn himself  and  hence  should  not  be  honoured 


44  Islam  Lands 

as  either  Christian  or  Mohammedan.  They  used 
to  spit  at  him  for  having  foresworn  his  own  faith 
and  now  will  not  look  at  him  at  all.  Of  course 
they  dare  not  now  spit  upon  or  at  him.  It  is 
reported  that  Lord  Kitchener  has  no  use  for  him, 
holding  that  he  can  be  of  no  service  here  with 
the  natives  who  do  not  respect  him,  but  the  late 
Queen  thought  otherwise  and  would  have  it  so, 
and  therefore  on  a  large  board  in  front  of  his  resi- 
dence one  reads  that  he  is  ''Inspector  General  of 
the  Sudan."  And  as  for  medals  he  wears  more 
than  any  other  man  in  Khartoum.  At  dinner 
lately  at  the  Palace,  Lord  Roberts  wore  but  two, 
but  Slatin  opposite  was  simply  covered  with  them, 
and  I  am  told  that  many  times  people  have  had 
to  wait  an  hour  and  a  half  while  he  arranged 
them  in  place  and  rank.^  Still  one  forgives  aU 
that  to  one  who  has  Hved  twelve  years  a  slave 
to  the  tyrant  of  yonder  grisly  horror  of  a  town. 
Certainly  by  his  life  there  and  his  book  thereon 
he  has  made  himself  famous  if  not  immortal. 

*  I  believe  that  [a  regulation  compels  all  officers  to  wear 
their  decorations. 


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CHAPTER  IV 

Omdurman  and  the  Way  thither — The  Junction  of  the  Rivers 
— Discovery  of  their  Source — Breakfast  with  Major 
Haskard— The  Prison  of  the  Khalifa— The  Mahdi's 
Tomb,  his  Life  and  Death  and  Burial — Slatin  Pasha  in 
Omdurman,  his  Life  and  Escape — Father  Ohrwalder — 
House  of  the  Khalifa — His  Relations  to  Slatin  Pasha — 
Gossip  of  the  Bazars — Cannibalism — Torture — An 
English  Missionary — People  of  the  Sudan — Slave 
Market — Battle  of  Omdurman — Opposing  Forces — 
Picturesque  Attack  of  the  Arabs — Flight  of  the  Khalifa — 
His  Death — Slatin  Pasha  Sees  him  again. 

CAN  anything  be  more  desolate  than  a  high 
wind  and  bright  sunshine?  If  it  is  cold 
and  dark  the  wind  seems  a  natural  part  of  the 
day,  but  when  the  sun  blazes  downward  over  all 
the  world  and  the  wind  moans  and  shrieks  like 
lost  souls,  the  depression,  to  me  at  least,  is  almost 
unbearable.  There  is  always  in  winter  a  high 
wind  at  Khartoum,  and  as  day  breaks  to-day  it 
moans  and  sobs  over  river  and  desert  with  in- 
tensifying sadness. 

We  are  bound  for  Omdurman  and  early  morning 
finds  us  en  route  down  the  banks  of  the  Blue  Nile 
to  a  point  almost  at  its  junction  with  the  White, 
and  where  we  shall  take  the  ferry  for  the  famous 
city  of  the  Mahdi.     We  move  along  by  jerks 

L45 


46  Islam  Lands 

or  smoothly  as  it  pleases  the  donkeys  which  draw 
our  rickshaws.  Men  here  can  be  forced  to  do 
that  work,  but  comply  most  unwillingly  and  with 
no  satisfaction  to  those  who  ride.  The  donkeys 
appear  to  be  of  the  same  frame  of  mind,  as  they 
certainly  object  and  rarely  can  be  driven  by  the 
lines.  A  boy  must  walk  by  their  heads  or  a  bolt 
or  a  sit  down — generally  the  latter — would  ensue 
every  minute  or  so.     To-day  the  beast  drawing 

Miss  P 's  rickshaw  manages  to  separate  itself 

from  the  vehicle  and  turning  aroimd  gravely 
regards  her  with  a  '*  What  are  you  going  to  do 
about  it?"  expression,  all  the  time  rousing  the 
echoes  and  the  neighbouring  lions  in  the  Zoo  by 
its  loud-mouthed  protests  at  the  indignity  being 
thrust  upon  it.  Reaching  the  landing  stage  we 
find  our  boy  with  the  saddles  awaiting  us  and  a 
snub-nosed  ferry-boat  shortly  puffs  up  to  the 
pier. 

From  here  one  has  the  junction  of  the  rivers 
spread  out  before  one  and  can  plainly  discern 
the  line,  extending  out  of  sight  to  the  northward, 
where  the  clear  waters  of  the  Blue  reach  the  muddy 
currents  of  the  White  Nile.  The  main  river 
stretches  away  to  the  northward,  broad  and  calm, 
and  in  the  delta  formed  just  here  is  the  island  of 
Tuti,  flooded  during  high  water  times.  Behind 
us  the  White  Nile  spreads  off  towards  the  equator, 
lake-like  and  placid,  being  some  four  miles  in 
width  not  far  to  the  southward. 

A   recent   writer  in   speaking   of   the   literary 


Source  of  the  Nile  47 

treasures  of  Europe  stated  that  the  ancestral 
castles  of  the  old  nobility  of  Europe  are  far  from 
having  yielded  up  to  the  students  of  history, 
science,  and  art,  all  their  hidden  treasures.  The 
libraries,  the  muniment  rooms,  the  vaults,  and 
the  garrets  of  many  of  them  remain  virtually 
unexplored  to  this  day,  perfect  mines  of  informa- 
tion with  regard  to  the  past.  Not  long  ago  the 
librarian  of  the  Prince  of  Waldburg  discovered 
in  the  library  of  the  prince's  chateau  of  Wolf  egg, 
the  Carta  Marina  of  America,  dated  15 16,  in 
which  the  name  of  the  explorer  Americus  (Ves- 
pucci) was  used  for  the  first  time  to  designate  this 
great  continent,  and  also  the  Waldseemiiller^map, 
dated  1507,  and  delineating  with  amazing  ac- 
curacy the  great  lakes  that  constitute  the  sources 
of  the  Nile,  and  which,  according  to  all  modern 
geographies,  encyclopedias,  and  other  standard 
contemporary  works  of  reference,  were  first 
discovered  a  little  less  than  half  a  century  ago 
by  the  explorers  Speke,  Grant,  and  Sir  Samuel 
Baker. 

The  discovery  of  this  particular  map  showed 
that  the  sources  of  the  Nile  were  perfectly  well 
known  at  the  time  of  the  discovery  of  America, 
and  that  in  some  strange  way  the  knowledge  had 
become  lost  to  the  geographers  and  scientists  of 
the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries,  and 
the  source  had  to  be  discovered  afresh  in  the 
nineteenth  century.     But,  to  return. 

As  we  leave  Khartoum  we  notice  near  the  land- 


48  Islam  Lands 

ing  some  low  mud  fortifications.  Through  that 
break  just  there,  which  we  have  passed  so  uncon- 
cernedly, the  Arabs  poured  on  that  fatal  morn- 
ing. It  would  not  appear  that  those  walls  could 
ever  have  formed  much  of  a  barrier  unless  very 
strongly  manned,  though  of  course  ten  years  of 
storm  and  sun  have  obliterated  much  of  them. 
:  Here  the  level  desert  stretches  off  on  all  sides 
and  yonder  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river  lies  the 
long,  low  straggling  city  of  which  the  world  has 
heard  so  much  and  for  which  so  much  blood  has 
been  shed,  Omdurman,  the  city  of  the  Mahdi  and 
Khalifa,  the  capital  of  a  vanquished  nation  and 
declining  faith.  Its  low  mud  wall  splreads  north- 
ward for  a  distance  of  ten  miles,  and  beyond,  just 
on  the  horizon,  one  can  discern  almost  the  only 
hill  hereabouts,  and  which  overlooks  the  famous 
battle-field  where  the  Crescent  received  the  most 
severe  defeat  and  setback  since  the  days  of 
Charles  Martel,  for  the  siege  of  Granada  was 
but  a  following  of  the  French  battle,  but  for 
which  Spain  would  never  have  shaken  off  the 
Moslem  yoke. 

.  Omdurman  lies  close  to  the  river,  whose  banks 
rise  gently  and  are  to-day  covered  by  the  people's 
market.  Major  Haskard,  whom  I  had  known 
in  Ireland,  meets  us  here  and  we  go  for  breakfast  i 
to  his  quarters,  a  spot  made  comfortable  by  the  I 
determination  of  the  men  who  know  that  the  next 
few  years  of  their  lives  must  be  passed  here  and 
intend  to  make  those  lives  as  pleasant,  or  at  least       ^ 


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Major  Haskard  49 

as  bearable  as  possible.  Of  course,  it  is  a  mud 
house, — there  is  nothing  else  in  Omdurman.  Just 
as  a  reminder  of  ''home"  a  garden  has  been 
started,  which  here  meant  great  labour,  as  there  is 
absolutely  no  soil  which  will  sustain  vegetation  and 
it  is  therefore  brought  from  the  island  across  the 
river. 

;  Already  a  few  sickly  plants  are  showing  their 
welcome  green  above  ground,  and  you  who 
have  never  had  sight  and  senses  blinded  and 
dulled  by  the  eternal  yellow  glare  of  the  desert 
and  the  changeless  cloudless  skies,  blue  in  the 
morning,  brazen  at  noon,  and  crimson  at  eve- 
ning, can  in  no  degree  appreciate  what  a  joy 
and  relief  the  slightest  bit  of  green  is  to  one, 
especially  if  one  comes  from  the  cool  grey  skies 
and  refreshing  greens  of  Merry  England.  Yet 
those  cool  grey  skies  would  be  an  equal  horror  to 
that  Sudanese  yonder,  who  stands  calmly  re- 
garding us.  His  skin  is  black  as  ebony  and  shines 
like  it,  a  skin  that  requires  brazen  skies  and  awful 
heat  to  keep  it  in  condition. 

An  hour  is  spent  in  the  pleasant  shelter  of 
Major  Haskard's  house  before  we  start  to  explore 
the  city,  to  do  which  I  mount  the  smallest  donkey 
of  my  long  experience.  I  am  almost  ashamed  to 
do  it.  I  feel  as  though  I  were  riding  a  mouse; 
but  even  so  at  first  try  my  leg  does  not  clear  the 
humped  up  saddle  and  I  come  back  to  Mother 
Earth  catching  as  I  do  the  flicker  of  contempt 
which  passes  over  the  face  of  my  donkey  boy. 


50  Islam  Lands 

That  spurs  me  to  greater  exertion,  and  I  nearly 
clear  the  entire  lot  of  donkeys  next  time. 

However,  we  are  shortly  en  route,  too  inter- 
ested to  talk.  It  is  rather  difficult  at  first  to 
realise  that  we  are  actually  moving  through  the 
scenes  of  those  horrors  of  ten  short  years  ago. 

We  ride  off  down  a  long  distance  of  wide  yellow 
streets,  bordered  by  bright,  yellow  walls  and 
arched  by  the  deep  blue  sky.  Not  a  sign  of  life, 
not  even  a  pariah  dog  in  sight,  and  an  absolute 
stillness,  save  for  the  patter  of  our  donkeys'  feet, 
reigns  over  and  around  us.  Of  the  hundred 
thousand  souls  which  made  the  town  hum  with 
life,  but  forty-seven  thousand  remain,  and  they 
are  banished  to  another  part  of  the  city.  This 
section  was  occupied  by  the  particular  tribes  of 
the  Khalifa,  who  brought  them  in  from  the  desert 
and  planted  them  here.  It  was  necessary  to 
disperse  what  the  battle  left,  in  order  to  the  more 
effectually  break  their  power.  They  were  the 
worst  robbers  and  murderers  of  the  lot,  as  their 
poor  fellow-townsmen  soon  discovered.  Now, 
no  longer  allowed  to  do  as  they  like,  they  are 
wretchedly  poor,  though  no  more  so  than  they 
deserve. 

In  the  immediate  vicinity  of  our  starting 
point  are  the  prisons  of  the  Mahdi,  now  but  heaps 
of  crumbling  yellow  walls  fast  resolving  into  the 
dust  from  which  they  sprang.  There  is  enough 
left,  however,  to  show  one  that  prisons  were  not 
costly  structures  in  Omdurman, — a  high  mud  wall 


Mahdi's  Tomb  51 

enclosing  some  hundred  square  feet,  and  happy 
the  poor  wretch  who  was  not  forced  to  herd  in 
the  few  covered  spots  or  hovels  the  place  might 
hold.  This  spot  and  the  whole  city  reeked  with 
the  most  awful  vileness  and  terrible  stenches  when 
Lord  Kitchener's  men  entered  after  the  battle, 
but  winds  and  sun  have  long  since  purified  it, 
while  the  broken  and  fast  vanishing  walls  could 
not  now  inspire  terror  in  a  child. 

The  Mahdi's  tomb  is  the  next  object  of  interest. 
It  was  his  house,  made  sacred  to  his  people  by 
his  life,  death,  and  burial,  and  would  undoubtedly 
have  been  made  an  object  of  pilgrimage  by  them, 
many  of  whom  still  believe  in  his  divine  mission. 
Even  to-day  we  notice  several  women  who  flee 
furtively  away  at  our  approach,  and  Major  H. 
states  that,  though  it  is  forbidden  as  much  as 
possible,  they  will  come  here  to  pray  and  get  the 
grass  off  of  the  grave,  believing  that  its  charm 
will  cause^  them  to  bear  children.  Three  black 
shadows  sped  off  in  the  distance  as  we  entered. 
They  know  that  the  Mahdi's  body  was  taken  up 
and  thrown  into  the  Nile,  an  act  of  Lord  Kitch- 
ener rendered  absolutely  necessary  to  prevent  the 
spot's  being  made  a  shrine. 

The  tomb  or  house  is  not  a  large  structure,  only 
some  fifty  feet  square.  Nothing  remains  but 
four  mud  walls  though  once  they  bore  aloft  quite 
a  stately  dome. 

It  is  claimed  that  the  first  Lyddite  shell  ever 
fired  in  war  was  shot  at  Omdurman  and  striking 


52  Islam  Lands 

the  dome  of  this  tower  blew  half  away.  The 
believers  in  the  prophet  must  have  lost  hope 
then. 

Not  tmtn  the  taking  of  Khartoum  did  all  his 
family  and  followers  accept  this  Mahdi  as  the 
true  one,  and  yet  from  that  time  onward  he  pro- 
ceeded to  destroy  all  that  by  his  life  and  manner 
of  living,  which  finally  caused  his  death  and  the 
death  of  his  cause.  He  had  four  lawful  wives  and 
numberless  concubines.  Thirty  women  stood 
round  him  when  he  died,  waving  fans  of  ostrich 
plumes.  The  ground  he  trod  upon  was  holy  and 
garnered  by  the  women — the  water  he  washed  in 
was  consumed  as  an  unfailing  remedy  of  all  illness. 

After  the  capture  of  Khartoimi  the  Mahdi 
lived  for  a  while  in  Gordon's  palace,  but  finally 
removed  here  and  Khartotmi  was  destroyed. 

In  Omdurman  he  gave  himself  up  to  luxury  and 
voluptuousness,  countless  women  in  the  harem, 
scented  linens,  gold  brocaded  pillows,  made  from 
stolen  vestments  of  the  Catholic  church,  and  all 
so  saturated  with  perftmie  that  when  he  attended 
prayers  all  the  vast  mosque  was  redolent  there- 
with. His  inner  life  was  that  of  a  voluptuary  in 
every  respect,  but  before  the  people  the  character 
of  the  prophet  was  strictly  maintained.  Daily 
he  preached  to  them  in  the  great  square  blister- 
ing below  in  the  sunlight.  Upwards  of  seventy 
thousand  men,  extended  in  long  rows  of  one  thou- 
sand, filled  the  space  and  bowed  before  him  like 
grass  before  the  wind. 


^ 

i 

1 

1 

Permission  of  LeKegian  Co. 

Major-General  Sir  Rudolf  von  Slatin  Pasha 


The  Mosque  53 

The  place  is  enclosed  by  a  very  good  wall, 
burnt  brick,  and  in  those  days  was  shaded  by 
enormous  mats  held  up  on  forked  sticks. 

Every  man  in  Omdurman  was  forced  to  attend 
all  the  daily  services,  no  matter  how  distant  his 
dwelling  or  place  of  business.  If  he  did  not  do 
so  he  was  reported  by  the  spies,  hauled  before 
the  Khalifa,  and  generally  cast  into  prison,  where  he 
might  live  and  rot  or  die,  as  it  pleased  him — just 
forgotten.  By  this  compulsory  attendance  at 
the  mosque  the  whereabouts  of  every  one  was 
known  and  no  greater  trust  seems  to  have  been 
placed  by  the  Khalifa  in  his  own  people  than  in 
the  foreigners,  of  course  the  latter  were  more 
strictly  watched,  and  having  to  appear  three  or 
four  times  daily  there  was  small  opportunity  to 
escape.  Slatin  Pasha  only  effected  his  by  in- 
forming the  Khalifa  that  he  was  ill  and  could 
not  attend  for  a  day  or  so,  commanding  his  own 
people  not  to  disturb  his  repose.  When  his  ab- 
sence was  reported  to  the  Khalifa  he  replied,  **I 
know,  let  him  alone,  he  is  unwell  in  his  house.*' 
But  when  finally  he  learned  that  he  was  not  in 
the  house,  it  is  reported  that  the  Khalifa  wept, 
"Gone,  and  I  trusted  him."  The  hue  and  cry 
went  out  at  once  over  all  the  land,  but  Slatin 
was  not  recaptured. 

It  would  seem  to  one  who  has  crossed  this 
blistering  desert  in  a  comfortable  carriage  that 
death  at  the  hands  of  the  barbarians  would  have 
been  preferable  to  that  flight  of  seven  hundred 


54  Islam  Lands 

miles  to  Assouan.  Blinding,  blistering,  withering 
heat  by  day  and  bitter  cold  and  howling  winds 
by  night,  little  to  eat  and  less  to  drink,  dreading 
every  human  being,  all  the  river  patrolled  to 
capture  him.  Surely  it  must  have  been  a  wreck 
of  a  man  who  crawled  into  Assouan.  Life 
is  our  dearest  possession.  We  may  have  faith  in 
one  in  a  better  world,  but  we  possess  this  one, 
and  it  is  but  natural  to  hold  on  until  the  last 
gasp.  Slatin  is  far  from  his  last  gasp  as  yet. 
Vide,  those  "twenty  wives."  Or  was  that  the 
reason  he  fled  away  into  the  wilderness  where,  in 
all  events,  he  could  chant  to  his  satisfaction  that 
beautiful  hymn,  "Peace,  perfect  peace"? 

The  officers  out  here  enjoy  poking  fun  at 
Slatin  Pasha,  who  certainly  takes  it  in  good  part. 
Every  now  and  then  a  woman  turns  up  in  Khar- 
toum with  a  card  stating  that  "This  woman  says 
she  knows  Slatin  and  may  be  his  wife.  We  think 
it  well  to  send  her  on  to  have  a  look  at  him." 
Slatin  rages  and  repudiates  and  the  woman  is 
returned  with  a  line  to  the  effect  that  "Slatin 
denies  ever  having  seen  her  before  so  she  cannot 
be  one  of  his  wives."  As  the  woman  is  generally 
of  an  age  which  wotdd  make  her  a  child  when  he 
was  in  captivity,  the  joke  is  self  evident.  This 
happens  every  now  and  then  with  the  only  result 
that  it  causes  the  little  man  to  dance  with  rage. 
"You  ruin  my  reputation."  He  speaks  with  a 
strong  accent. 

After  Slatin*s  flight  the  Khalifa  ordered  his 


Slatin's  Wives  55 

wives,  servants,  land,  and  cattle  to  be  taken 
possession  of  but  ordered  that  the  household  be 
treated  gently  as  being  the  property  of  a  true 
Moslem.  */ Slatin's  Darfurian  wife,  Hassanieh, 
whom  he  married  when  Governor- General  of  Dar- 
fur  (showing  that  it  was  not  a  captor  that  forced 
him  to  take  a  native  wife),  was  claimed  as  of 
royal  blood  and  married  at  once  to  one  of  the 
Darfurian  royal  family.  Desta,  his  Abyssinian 
wife,  died  of  fright  as  the  result  of  the  ransacking 
of  the  house  and  her  reduction  to  the  position 
of  a  common  slave.  She  gave  birth  to  a  boy  who 
survived  her  but  a  few  weeks.  "^ 

On  the  whole,  from  an  Arab's  point  of  view, 
yonder  Sir  Rudolph  does  not  appear  to  have 
had  a  very  bad  time,  though  to  a  European 
the  best  of  lives  in  such  a  place  as  Omdurman 
must  have  been  torture.  But  to  return  to  the 
Mahdi. 

When  the  time  came  for  prayers  all  his  gor- 
geousness  was  laid  aside,  and  clad  in  humble  stuff, 
anything  but  clean,  he  marched  off,  prayed  and 
preached,  then  returned  to  the  delights  of  the 
harem.  As  the  result  of  his  life  he  grew  very 
fat  and  died  on  June  2,  1885,  of  fatty  degeneration 
of  the  heart,  surviving  his  victim  Gordon  but  a  few 
months.  It  is  claimed  also  that  he  was  poisoned 
by  a  woman  whose  people  he  had  murdered  in 
IQiartoum,  and  whom  he  had  outraged.  Be  that  as 
it  may,  he  was  dead  and  few  will  add  ''God  rest 

»  Neuf eld's  A  Prisoner  of  the  Khalifa. 


56  Islam  Lands 

his  soul,"  and  yet  he  was  far  preferable  to  the 
Klialifa. 

The  people  were  told  that  he  was  about  to 
travel  through  heaven  for  the  space  of  three  years ; 
no  one  was  allowed  to  say  that  he  was  dead.  As 
all  Mohammedans  must  be  buried  coffinless  in 
the  earth — the  Koran  commands  it — his  body 
was  wrapped  in  a  shroud  and  laid  in  the  earth 
itself. 

Before  the  grave  was  filled  up  the  corpse  was 
sprinkled  with  perfumes  by  the  women,  then  each 
person  present  threw  in  a  handful  of  earth,  ex- 
claiming, "O  merciftd,  O  gracious  God." 

So  died  and  was  buried  the  false  prophet  of  the 
nineteenth  centiiry,  one  of  the  many  who  have 
''come  in  My  name." 

Behind  him  were  tens  of  thousands  of  murdered 
himian  beings  and  countless  devastated  towns  and 
ruined  farms.  Poverty,  famine,  and  death  reigned 
on  all  sides, — ^in  a  country  once  prosperous,  now 
desolate,  and  to  be  made  more  desolate,  to  undergo 
still  greater  horrors  through  the  hands  of  his 
successor.  The  Khalifa  Abdallah  promptly  put 
to  death  all  other  claimants  to  power  and  all  the 
relatives  of  his  late  master  upon  whom  he  could 
lay  his  hands,  and  the  numbers  were  not  few. 

Throughout  all  the  provinces  stretching  from 
Bahr-el  Ghazel  to  Egypt  and  from  Darfur  to  the 
Red  Sea,  the  Mahdi's  mission  had  been  to  destroy 
all  existing  forms  of  government,  and  this  he  had 
done  most  effectively. 


Permission  of  London  Stereoscopic  Company 

General  Gordon 


Father  Ohrwalder  57 

Khartoum,  the  former  beautiful  metropoHs  of 
the  Sudan,  was  but  a  heap  of  crumbHng  bricks. 
Gordon  was  slain,  Hicks  Pasha  and  Stewart  and 
Bumaby  and  thousands  of  the  helpless  all  gone 
under  these  terrible  sands,  their  day  of  life  and 
life's  dream  done. 

Father  Ohrwalder  states  that  Gordon's  head 
was  hung  on  a  tree  in  Omdurman  and  remained 
there  for  the  birds  to  pick  at  and  the  people  to 
revile.  There  is  to-day  no  sign  of  a  tree  in  all  the 
stretch  of  that  city.  One  reads  with  absorbing 
interest  his  most  thrilling  account  of  his  Ten 
Years'  Captivity.  That  is  its  title,  and  as  you 
scan  the  book-stalls  you  will  probably  see  it,  but 
the  outside  of  the  book  gives  him  no  credit  what- 
ever. You  would  fancy  the  work  to  be  one  of 
Major  Wingate's,  Ohrwalder's  name  not  appearing 
there  at  all.  Of  course  it  does  on  the  title-page, 
and  full  credit  is  given  him  in  the  preface. 

It  was  written  in  German  and  translated  into 
English  by  Yusif  Effendi  Cudzi,  a  Syrian,  after 
which  Major  Wingate  arranged  it  in  narrative 
form.  But  it  would  have  been  better  to  have 
the  real  writer's  name  on  the  outer  cover.  Look- 
ing for  that,  I  passed  the  book  over  several  times, 
thinking  it  Major  Wingate's  work  as  I  knew  he 
had  written  one. 

The  good  father  graphically  depicts  the  sudden 
collapse  of  Mahdism  with  the  death  of  that 
prophet.  The  people  stood  around  as  though 
stunned  and  would  in  no  wise  accept  the  news. 


58  Islam  Lands   • 

He  could  not  die,  he  was  immortal,  but  luxury 
had  done  its  work,  and  he  did  die,  and  a  grave 
was  dug  on  the  spot  where  his  bed  had  stood  and 
therein  he  was  buried  and  this  tomb  erected 
over  all.  Then  his  religious  claims  vanished  like 
the  flame  of  a  candle  blown  by  a  gusty  wind. 
His  successor  was  only  a  human  and  a  brutal 
ruler.  The  Mahdi  was  often  merciful  and  ben- 
evolent, the  latter  never  other  than  savage. 

A  short  distance  from  the  tomb  stands,  quite 
unchanged,  the  house  of  his  successor,  the  Khalifa. 
It  now  forms  the  comf6rtable  quarters  of  Capt. 
Asquith, — a  young  officer  upon  whom  I  look  with 
some  interest.  In  most  nations,  if  one  were  the 
son  of  the  Prime  Minister  of  the  land,  one  would 
use  influence  to  get  transferred  to  a  more  com- 
fortable post  than  this  grisly  Sudan,  but  not  so 
here.  It 's  all  in  the  line  of  duty  and  cheerfully 
accepted,  cheerfully  lived  out,  even  if  it  means, 
as  it  often  does,  ten  or  more  of  the  best  years  of 
a  man's  life,  or  death  without  glory  at  the  hands 
of  some  black  brute. 

I  think  I  can  truly  say,  and  I  have  known  and 
met  them  all  over  the  world,  that  I  have  never 
known  an  English  soldier  ^  to  object  to  or  complain 
of  his  fate.  If  he  feels  rebellious,  he  keeps  it  to 
himself. 

But  I  left  you  standing  in  the  blazing  sun  at 
the  door  of  the  Kiialifa's  home.     However,  do 

» I  believe  Mr.  Asquith  is  in  the  Civil  Service — but  the 
comment  holds  there  also. — M.  M.  S. 


The  Khalifa's  House  59 

not  grumble,  I  take  you  in  there  much  sooner 
than  you  would  have  entered  twelve  years  ago. 
Then  you  would  probably  have  been  chained  to 
yonder  stake  and  left  in  the  awful  heat  and  glare, 
dust  and  howling  sand-storm,  to  live  or  die  as  the 
case  might  be,  and  did  you  complain  you  would 
have  been  flogged  or  mutilated,  probably  both. 
But  now,  come  in  out  of  the  sun,  leaving  the  latter 
to  your  donkey,  who  points  his  ears  at  your  disap- 
pearing figure,  as  though  to  ask  that  you  do  not 
in  turn  keep  him  there. 

You  enter  a  small  mud  court  and  then  more  of 
the  same  sort  at  odd  angles  to  each  other,  like 
a  rabbit's  warren.  After  passing  several  such 
you  come  to  one  of  greater  pretensions — but  not 
large, — and  in  the  days  of  the  Khalifa  this  is  as 
far  as  you  would  ever  have  gotten.  Here  in  an 
eastern  alcove  in  the  morning  and  a  western 
alcove  in  the  evening  he  administered  such  justice 
as  pleased  him.  If  you  did  not  think  it  justice 
that  was  the  fault  of  your  education,  not  his. 

Farther  on  one  finds  the  other  rooms,  all 
moderate  in  size,  grouped  around  a  courtyard, 
and  the  only  one  upon  which  labour  has  been  ex- 
pended is  the  bath-room.  This  holds  a  large  tub 
in  cement,  with  hot  and  cold  water  taps,  stolen 
from  some  English  boiler;  also  the  iron  wash  basin 
let  into  cement  came  from  some  steamboat. 

The  gratings  of  the  outer  windows  once  did 
duty  as  an  iron  fence  in  Khartoum,  probably 
from  Gordon's  palace. 


6o  Islam  Lands 

As  we  pass  out  onto  a  rear  portico  I  stop  in 
amazement,  for  an  instant.  Has  the  spirit  of 
the  Khalifa  returned  to  this  one-time  abiding 
place  of  his  body?  It  would  seem  so,  for  by  a 
post  in  the  sunlight  sits  a  diminutive  black  figure 
wrapped  in  a  white  burnous.  Over  the  head  and 
around  the  body  the  white  cloth  falls  in  graceful 
folds  and  is  held  under  the  chin  by  a  diminutive 
black  hand.  A  queer  little  black  face  is  lifted 
towards  us  and  a  pair  of  piercing  black  eyes 
keenly  regard  us.  It  is  not  until  I  notice  the  point 
of  a  tail  behind  that  I  realise  that  it  is  monkey 
and  not  man.  I  never  saw  anything  funnier, 
or  burnous  more  gracefully  worn, — it  is  human 
to  the  last  touch,  and  we  laugh  imtil  her  ladyship 
retires  with  deeply  wounded  feelings.  I  regret 
that  I  have  not  my  Kodak, — one  never  does 
when  it  is  worth  while.  Passing  upward  to  the 
roof  of  the  house,  which  is  but  two  stories  in 
height,  one  looks  out  over  the  court  end  of  Om- 
durman.  Just  below  stretches  a  vast  enclosure — 
already  mentioned — the  mosque,  which  is  now  a 
parade  grotmd,  and  there  Slatin  Pasha  says  he 
made  some  three  himdred  thousand  genuflections. 
It  is  stated  that  the  preservation  of  Slatin's  life 
was  due  largely  to  two  things,  his  never-failing 
good  humour  and  his  fine  teeth.  With  the  former 
he  amused  the  tyrant  and  by  the  latter  he  was 
enabled  to  masticate  everything  given  him.  Yon- 
der is  the  house  where  he  lived  and  they  say  that 
a  Mrs.  Slatin,  one  or  more,  may  still  be  met  with 


o 


Slatin's  Captivity  6i 

therein — in  fact,  I  was  told  to-day  that  he  still 
sends  money  to  Omdurman.  His  friends  state 
that  he  is  of  the  greatest  service  to  the  govern- 
ment here,  that  he  is  a  diplomat  to  his  fingers' 
ends  and  that,  together  with  his  perfect  command 
of  the  language,  enables  him  to  smooth  the  path- 
way of  the  officials  here  and  throughout  all  the 
Sudan. 

To  the  Khalifa  he  acted  as  interpreter  and  as 
court  jester,  and  rest  assured  the  poor  man  was 
made  to  dance.  I  doubt  if  an  Anglo-Saxon  could 
have  stood  it.  Imagine  twelve  long  years  in 
this  horror,  never  your  own  master  for  a  moment, 
one  day  high  in  favour,  the  next  degraded  to  the 
post  of  donkey  boy  and  worse  and  forced  to  run  at 
the  tail  of  the  Khalifa's  horse  hour  after  hour 
and  over  mile  after  mile  of  yonder  blistering 
desert.  If  anything  went  wrong  he  was  held 
personally  responsible,  a  scapegoat  as  it  were, 
and  all  the  time  he  must  carry  a  smiling  counte- 
nance and  use  those  teeth  upon  whatever  was 
placed  before  him,  and  you  who  are  used  to  the 
wholesome  fare  of  the  north  can  in  no  way  com- 
prehend the  vile  stuff  these  people  can  and  do  eat, 
and  the  awful  state  in  which  they  live,  mud 
hovels  baked  by  the  terrible  heat  or  soaked  by 
the  tropical  rains  and  alive  with  vermin  and  with 
dung  heaps  in  the  very  sleeping  rooms. 

A  man  built  upon  large  lines  could  not  have 
done  what  Slatin  did.  It  would  have  killed  the 
conqueror  Kitchener. 


62  Islam  Lands 

Even  now  in  his  prosperity  they  say  that 
Slatin  is  for  ever  in  a  happy  humour,  that  enter- 
ing the  palace  and  finding  the  Sirdar  in  a  grave 
mood  and  the  household  gloomy,  he  will  shortly 
have  the  whole  place  laughing.  Surely  in  his 
case  it  has  been  "laugh  and  the  world  laughs  with 
you."  To  have  smiled  through  twelve  years  of 
Omdurman  indicates  that  there  is  much  in  the  man. 

It  is  reported  that  he  is  rather  fond  of  returning 
to  his  old  life  when  out  in  the  country,  such  as 
riding  camels  gorgeously  caparisoned  (himself 
wearing  turbans  and  white  clothes)  or  sitting 
on  mats  under  palm  trees  and  eating  dates — 
but  he  displayed  nothing  of  this  to  us.  He  is 
an  Austrian  and  the  Austrians  are  rather  elegant. 

His  present  house,  which  I  did  not  enter,  is 
full  of  the  most  beautiful  embroideries,  and  he 
entertains  delightfully.  He  certainly  attracted 
me  very  greatly,  notwithstanding  those  "twenty 


wives." 


The  Khalifa  was  in  a  way  the  Baron  Haussmann 
of  Omdurman  though  his  motives  were  far  differ- 
ent. Finding  that  the  narrow,  crooked  streets 
were  not  suited  to  his  progress  he  ordered  broad 
highways  cut  all  through  the  town,  and  it  was 
done,  with  as  much  ease  and  as  little  consideration 
for  the  homes  destroyed  as  one  has  for  the  grass 
which  falls  before  a  lawn  mower.  The  people 
moved  elsewhere  and  complained  not  at  all,  as 
that  would  have  insured  mutilation  or  prompt 
imprisonment   at   least,   probably   in   irons.     As 


Gossip  63 

the  whole  town  was  built  of  mud  the  task  was  easy. 
No  one  had  a  good  house,  that  would  have  indi- 
cated wealth  and  insured  persecution. 

The  Khalifa  knew  the  perniciousness  of  gossip 
and  would,  had  he  dared,  have  suppressed  that 
hot-bed  thereof,  the  market.  But  he  dared  not, 
and  the  gossip  went  on.  You  will  find  that  more 
fully  than  anywhere  else  on  earth  an  Oriental 
market  proves  the  saying  "There  is  nothing  hidden 
which  shall  not  be  made  known."  Every  item 
and  incident  of  each  other's  lives,  their  dearest 
hopes  and  most  hidden  secrets  are  known  and 
talked  of.  Let  a  man  commit  murder  and  he 
can  be  tracked  by  this  gossip  from  Khartoum  to 
Samarkand,  and  Morocco  to  Cape  Town.  The 
vastest  deserts,  the  highest  mountains  are  no  bar- 
rier. This  happened  when  I  was  in  Central  Asia 
when  a  man,  who  had  committed  murder  in  Leh, 
was  tracked  all  over  that  vast  country,  across 
the  gigantic  Himalayas,  over  the  Pamirs,  over 
the  Black  Sand  Desert  to  Bokhara  and  back  to 
Kashmir  and  so  to  Samarkand  where  he  was 
caught  and  hanged.  I  am  of  the  impression  that 
those  donkeys  are  the  worst  gossips  of  the  land 
and  what  they  don't  know  the  camels  do — and 
reticence  is  not  a  characteristic  of  either.  But 
to  return. 

Matters  came  to  such  a  pass  under  the  KhaHfa 
that  cannibalism  was  a  common  occurrence. 
Children  never  dared  venture  out  alone  and  even 
mothers  were  known  to  eat  their  offspring.     One 


64  Islam  Lands 

little  girl  came  and  asked  protection,  stating  that 
her  brother  had  been  eaten  and  she  would  go 
next  and  by  her  own  mother.  People  starved 
by  the  thousands  and  Father  Ohrwalder  states 
that  he  has  often  seen  poor  Httle  skeletons  of 
infants  trying  to  get  nourishment  from  their 
dead  mothers'  breasts. 

We  are  served  daily  at  the  hotel  with  delicious 
fish  from  the  Nile,  and  as  the  years  since  Omdur- 
man  are  now  many,  we  may  eat  in  peace,  but  then 
the  river  was  the  great  burial  place  and  fish  to 
be  avoided.  Around  many  of  the  villages  the 
hyenas  were  known  to  enter  the  huts  and  drag 
off  the  half  dead  people. 

Such  were  some  of  the  blessings  which  followed 
in  the  footsteps  of  the  prophet  and  the  slowness 
of  Downing  Street.  No  matter  what  horrors 
these  people  had  inflicted  upon  others,  they  suf- 
fered tenfold  themselves,  until  all  the  land  was 
reduced  to  a  howling  wilderness,  to  remain  so 
until  Kitchener  appeared,  but  it  will  be  a  century 
and  more  before  a  recovery  can  be  effected. 

The  mode  of  torture  most  delighted  in  by  the 
Klialifa  and  which  approached  nearest  to  the 
perfection  acquired  by  the  Holy  Inquisitor  was  that 
of  cutting  off  a  hand  and  a  foot  from  the  same  man. 
The  member  to  be  amputated  was  tightly  bound 
just  above  where  the  cut  was  to  be  made.  The 
executioner  was,  through  frequent  practice,  an 
expert  in  his  work, — a  few  moments  only  were 
required.    Then  to  prevent  loss  of  blood  the  bind- 


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Plan  of  the  Palace 


Torture  65 

ings  were  retained,  while  mortification  and  gan- 
grene were  prevented  by  dipping  the  member 
at  once  into  boihng  oil  or  fat,  and  then  smearing 
it  with  Katran  (a  mixture  of  tar  and  grease). 
Two  months  efTected  a  cure,  and  the  man  or 
woman  was  ready  for  the  only  'business  left  him 
in  this  world,  begging. 

I  saw  a  few  such  in  Persia;  one  especially  fol- 
lowed me  through  the  streets  of  Resht,  and 
having  received  alms  once,  rushed  round  a  booth 
and  headed  me  off  on  the  other  side  with  renewed 
demands.  He  was  not  humble  about  it,  bless 
you,  no.  Having  performed  his  part,  he  allowed 
no  backwardness  upon  my  part  in  doing  mine. 
He  had  to  be  driven  off  finally  with  staves  and 
retired  cursing  me  and  all  my  living  and  dead 
relations  from  the  days  of  Noah  down  and  to 
come. 

However,  that  torture  as  I  have  stated  almost 
equalled  that  of  the  Spaniards  or  the  delicate 
attention  the  refined  and  religious  Puritans  be- 
stowed upon  the  poor  wretches  they  deemed 
witches,  with  the  single  difference  that  this  was 
done  by  ignorant  savages,  that  by  the  followers 
of  the  loving  Jesus,  by  people  who  claimed  to  be 
refined  and  upright  and  most  religious.  So  runs 
the  world  away. 

It  is  related  that  one  Zogheir,  the  best  pro- 
fessional thief  in  Omdurman,  survived  the  torture 
and  went  about  nothing  abashed  or  discouraged, 
on   a   donkey,    still   plying   his   trade.     He   was 


66  Islam  Lands 

imprisoned  for  two  years  and  loaded  with  chains, 
but  considering  it  beneath  him  to  use  crutches, 
hopped  along  on  one  foot,  and  out  once  more,  he 
soon  regained  his  reputation  as  the  best  of  thieves. 

Be  it  said  to  the  Mahdi's  credit  that  he  was 
utterly  opposed  to  the  horrible  immorality  which 
held  full  sway  under  the  KJialifa,  when  matters 
became  so  bad  that  even  he  endeavoured  to  effect 
a  better  state  of  affairs,  with  but  small  degree  of 
success.  One  and  only  one  execution  of  a  woman 
for  infidelity  occurred  during  his  reign.  The 
poor  creature  with  her  last  child  tied  to  her  bosom 
was  lowered  into  a  grave  and  stoned  to  death. 

The  Khalifa  knew  nothing  of  the  famous 
*'Ling  Chi"  or  death  of  a  thousand  pieces.  If 
in  his  heaven  he  does  meet  some  of  those  gentle 
old  smiling  Chinese,  wise,  versed  in  these  high 
arts,  how  he  must  regret  his  lost  opportunities, 
and  how  he  must  long  to  return  and  what  a  dance 
he  would  give  yonder  gay  Sir  Rudolph  ! 

I  wonder  what  religion  Slatin  professes  now. 
For  a  Catholic  and  an  Austrian  to  have  changed 
his  faith  to  Mohammedanism  for  any  cause 
whatever  would  some  years  ago  in  his  own  land 
have  insured  him  far  greater  tortures  than  the 
Khalifa  ever  knew  anything  about.  One  can 
easily  fancy  what  the  Grand  Inquisitor  would  have 
done  with  him.  The  Khalifa  knew  but  few  of 
those  fine  arts.  He  had  no  racks  or  water  tor- 
ture, he  did  not  roast  before  a  slow  fire,  enclose 
in  an  **iron  Virgin, "  nor  has  one  ever  heard  of  his 


Standing  of  Slatin  67 

having  buried  any  one  alive  even  in  the  name 
of  Mohammed.  True,  torture  was  not  unknown 
to  him,  such  as  impaHng  and  horrible  starvation, 
but  most  of  his  victims  were  soon  blessed  with 
death.  On  the  whole  Torquemada  would  have 
looked  upon  him  with  great  contempt  and  as 
quite  amateurish. 

Slatin  Pasha  was  put  in  irons  once  or  twice, 
was  forced  to  run  barefooted  in  the  hot  sun  after 
the  swift  Arab  horse  of  his  master,  was  forced  to 
adore  the  prophet  five  times  a  day,  but  all  the 
time  the  Khalifa  assured  him  that  he  loved  him. 
Certainly  his  fate  was  heavenly  when  compared 
to  many  prisoners  in  Omdurman.  At  no  time 
was  he  in  danger  of  the  tortures  which  would 
have  befallen  him  had  he  been  captured  by  our 
American  Indians  or  the  Chinese  of  to-day. 
They,  the  latter,  may  dig  a  hole  in  your  side  and 
sweetening  the  end  of  a  hollow  rod  insert  it  in 
th.e  wound  and  after  binding  you  leave  you  to 
be  devoured  alive  by  ants. 

The  next  Khalifa  should  be  educated  in  China, 
then  he  would  know  how  to  properly  fill  his  sta- 
tion. Apparently  Slatin  Pasha  stands  to-day 
nothing  the  worse  for  his  experience,  though 
Capt.  A.  told  me  last  night  that  he  thought  it 
was  beginning  to  tell  upon  him.  Let  us  hope 
not. 

On  the  ferry-boat  going  over  we  met  a  sad-eyed 
little  Englishwoman,  who  turned  out  to  be  a 
schoolmistress   in   Omdurman.     She  was  deeply 


68  Islam  Lands 

interested  in  her  work  and  made  us  promise  to 
call  on  her.  So,  on  leaving  the  Khalifa's  house, 
we  did  so  and  found  her  housed  in  a  small  build- 
ing surroiHiding  a  courtyard,  where,  with  one 
assistant,  she  was  doing  her  best  for  these  people, 
and  I  doubt  not  that  when  her  name  is  called 
on  the  great  day  she  will  not  have  been  found 
wanting. 

You  who  live  in  your  comfortable  homes  in  a 
delightful  climate,  do  you  think  you  can  in  any 
degree  appreciate  such  a  life?  The  mud  house, 
the  blinding  dust,  the  awful  heat  and  scorching 
sun,  the  absolute  isolation  and  exile  from  all  her 
kind,  the  dead  loneliness  when  the  day's  work  is 
done,  and  this,  from  day  to  day,  month  to  month, 
year  to  year,  until  God  gives  her  death  as  the 
greatest  and  only  blessing  which  can  come  to  her, 
and  all  for  a  dozen  or  so  little  black  girls?  Would 
you  do  it?  Think  of  it  the  next  time  you  kneel 
in  your  beautiful  church  and  thank  God  you  are 
not  as  others  are. 

This  little  woman  kept  a  smiling  face  as  she 
waved  us  adieu,  but  ah!  I  knew  there  was  an 
aching,  empty  heart  back  of  it.  If  such  men  and 
women  do  not  win  Paradise,  then  the  rest  of  us 
have  not  a  shadow  of  a  chance. 

It  is  blazing  hot  as  we  leave  her  house  and  after 
a  hard  canter  through  the  deserted  streets  reach 
Major  Haskard's  quarters  where  we  rest  until  it 
is  time  to  go  to  the  ferry.  As  we  enter  the  com- 
pound and  he  is  photographing  us,  my  donkey 


Where  Gordon  Fell 
(The  Old  Palace,  Khartoum) 


Native  Dress  69 

actually  sits  down  under  me,  leaving  me  standing 
like  a  Colossus  of  Rhodes.  Evidently  the  little 
beast  considered  that  his  most  effective  pose. 

For  three  days  we  have  been  in  the  midst  of 
a  howling  wind  storm.  Near  the  river  one  does 
not  suffer  from  the  sand,  but  to  be  out  in  the 
desert  must  be  great  discomfort,  to  say  the  least. 
The  whole  sky  to-day  is  grey  with  the  sand 
clouds,  through  which  the  sunlight  comes  as  on 
a  misty  November  morning  at  home,  but  as  the 
snub-nosed  ferry  has  left  the  Khartoum  landing 
stage  we  must  go  down  to  meet  it. 

So  bidding  our  host  farewell,  we  are  off  with 
much  protest  on  the  part  of  my  donkey.  As  we 
pass  the  market  he  is  quite  convinced  that  that 
should  be  our  destination,  and  prepares  to  try 
the  sitting  act  once  more,  but  a  sharp  whack  of 
my  stick  changes  his  mind  and  he  trots  steadily 
forward,  his  ears  pointed  directly  in  front  in 
inquiry  as  to  where  we  may  be  going. 

Crowds  of  Sudanese  flock  off  to  the  ferry,  faces 
black  as  charcoal,  and  yet  not  the  negro  face, — 
a  better,  clearer  cast  of  countenance  and  much 
more  intelligent  in  expression.  It  is  said  that  these 
Sudanese  have  a  keen  sense  of  the  ridiculous, 
and  from  what  I  noticed  I  should  think  it  true. 
The  women  are  all  dressed  in  white  and  wear  a 
lot  of  jewelry.  Yonder  is  one  with  heavy  silver 
rings  of  quaint  design,  one  of  which  holds  a  large 
turquoise.  One  notices  many  of  these  precious 
stones  here — they  are  evidently  the  favourite  with 


70  Islam  Lands 

these  coaJ  black  beauties  or  are  plentiful  and 
cheap. 

The  population  of  the  Sudan  is  divided  into 
three  great  classes:  the  pure  Arab,  to  whom 
manual  labour  has  been  unknown  since  his  ancestor 
Ishmael  mixed  the  mortar  with  which  to  cement 
the  stones  of  the  Kaaba  or  House  of  God  which 
Abraham  built  at  Mecca;  second,  the  Negroid, 
who  will  work  but  little  and  who  possesses  all 
the  bad  and  but  few  of  the  good  qualities  of  his 
progenitors;  and  third,  the  Black,  indolent  and 
too  lazy  to  work,  without  ambition,  and  satisfied 
if  he  has  enough  to  eat, — clothing  and  shelter 
matter  not  in  this  climate.  His  black  skin  pro- 
tects him  from  heat  which  would  kill  a  white  man. 
The  Dinkos  have  a  curious  custom  of  standing 
on  one  leg  and  resting  the  other  by  placing  the 
foot  against  the  knee  of  the  straight  leg;  a  spear 
helps  to  support  them  in  this  strange  position. 
This  attitude  owes,  probably,  its  origin  to  in- 
habiting a  country  where  it  is  often  impossible 
to  rest  in  a  sitting  or  lying  position.  The  estab- 
lishment of  the  Wellcome  Laboratory  at  Khar- 
toum was  an  act  of  immense  benefit  not  only  to 
the  Sudan,  but  to  all  tropical  countries.  Under 
the  able  direction  of  Dr.  Balfour  it  has  accom- 
plished much  good  work  and  it  will  in  future  do 
much  more.  The  advent  of  the  British  race  has 
benefited  many  foreign  countries,  but  nowhere 
probably  is  the  benefit  more  marked  than  in  the 
Sudan. 


The  Dinkos  71 

The  sight  of  this  swarming  population  reminds 
one  that  Khartoum  was  the  principal  slave  mart  in 
Africa  where  trade  was  always  brisk,  and  Zobheir 
Pasha,  one  of  the  greatest  traders,  knew  these 
people  as  no  one  else  did,  and  was  the  only  man 
who  could  have  checked  the  advance  of  the  Mahdi, 
hence  General  Gordon's  desire  to  use  him,  though 
he  of  all  men  could  not  but  detest  the  fellow. 
Still  it  is  sometimes  necessary  to  do  apparent 
evil  that  good  may  come,  and  much  might  have 
been  saved  had  this  man  been  utilised.  He  could 
have  been  managed  once  the  Mahdi's  power  was 
broken  and  his  progress  checked. 

Napoleon  would  have  ordered  it  done,  Glad- 
stone was  afraid,  a  sensation  which  the  **  Little 
Corporal"  never  knew.  But  how  simple  a  matter, 
after  it  is  too  late,  it  is  to  suggest  what  might  have 
been  done.  What  a  pity  that  it  was  not  ordained 
that  our  foresight  should  equal  our  memory. 
Imagine  the  world  under  those  conditions. 

As  our  ferry  crosses  the  placid  river  the  battle- 
field of  Omdurman  is  plainly  visible.  It  is  but 
five  miles  away  and  that  is  nothing  to  the  eyesight 
in  this  wonderful  air. 

Lord  Kitchener  possessed  the  ability  of  taking 
pains.  It  was  his  perfect  preparation  for  the 
care  of  his  men,  especially  in  the  commissary 
department,  together  with  modern  artillery  which 
won  the  battle  so  easily.  There  were  twenty-two 
thousand  British  and  Egyptians  on  the  one  side 
and  forty  thousand  to  fifty  thousand  Arabs  on  the 


72  Islam  Lands 

other,  the  former  armed  with  Maxims  and  rifles, 
the  latter  with  nothing  save  the  poorest  of  old 
rifles,  rotten,  home-made  cartridges,  and  spears,  all 
of  which  were  of  little  or  no  use.  It  was  a  long- 
distance battle  for  the  most  part,  but  for  those 
who  could  look  on,  what  a  magnificent  sight  those 
lines  of  dusky  warriors  bearing  the  black  and  green 
flags  must  have  presented  as  they  hopelessly  but 
nothing  daunted  swept  forward  to  certain 
death.  Line  after  line  melted  away  like  mist 
before  the  sun,  only  to  be  followed  by  other 
lines  to  a  like  fate  until  eleven  thousand  were 
killed,  sixteen  thousand  woinided,  and  four  thou- 
sand made  prisoners,  out  of  forty  thousand  in 
all.  Think  of  it.  As  was  said  in  the  Crimea 
When  the  Light  Brigade  made  that  famous 
charge,  ''It  was  magnificent,  but  it  was  not 
war."  Of  English  and  Egyptians  killed  there 
were  twenty-three  oflicers  and  three  hundred  and 
sixty-three  men. 

That  army  was  also  supported  by  gunboats  on 
the  river  and  on  the  opposite  bank  there  was  a 
battery  of  40-pr.  siege  guns  and  the  Thirty-seventh 
British  Howitzer  Battery,  and  all  were  very  effec- 
tive. There  was  nothing  left  to  chance;  the  loss 
of  that  battle  would  have  meant  the  loss  of  Egypt 
with  who  can  say  how  much  more,  and  would  have 
set  history  and  progress  back  for  centuries. 

That  black  horde  was  the  largest  army  ever 
hurled  into  the  Sudan  by  the  Crescent  against  the 
Cross,  and  the  triumph  of  the  latter  has  again 


?    5 

E      C. 
2     o 


Death  of  the  KhaHfa  73 

opened  all  East  Africa  to  commerce  and  insured 
peace  and  quietness. 

Truly  no  adversity  appears  to  shake  the  faith 
of  these  people  in  their  religion.  In  the  midst 
of  the  battle  the  Khalifa  dismounted  and  sit- 
ting on  his  prayer-skin  surrounded  by  his  emirs 
six  deep,  he  held  communion  with  the  prophet 
and  the  Mahdi,  while  his  army  was  melting  away 
like  shadows  before  the  sun.  Later  in  the  day, 
deserted  by  all,  he  squatted  alone  on  his  prayer- 
skin  in  the  deserted  mosque,  and  it  was  pure 
accident  that  General  Kitchener  and  his  staff  did 
not  find  him  there  absolutely  alone.  The  Sirdar 
made  the  circuit  of  the  town  all  but  twelve  hund- 
red yards;  had  he  finished  he  would  have  come 
face  to  face  with  Abdallah,  with  none  so  poor  to 
do  him  reverence,  but  the  English  guard  turned 
away,  and  the  dervish  entering  his  house  changed 
his  clothes,  collected  what  was  left  of  his  household, 
and  quietly  vanished,  to  appear  but  once  more  in 
history. 

Then,  a  more  picturesque  sight  than  even  the 
battle  of  Omdurman  was  presented  when  more 
than  a  year  later  at  the  battle  of  Um  Debreikat 
he  and  his  officers  spread  their  sheepskins  and 
sat  calmly  down  to  await  death  surrounded  by 
six  hundred  who  were  dead  already,  including 
two  of  his  sons  and  one  of  the  Mahdi's,  and  here 
again  and  for  the  last  time  Slatin  Pasha  stood  in 
the  presence  of  the  Khalifa,  albeit  the  latter  knew 
it  not. 


74  Islam  Lands 

Netifeld  thinks  that  the  only  grave  error  of 
the  Sirdar,  Kitchener,  was  in  giving  quarter,  and 
that 

*'in  doing  so  he  was  aware  he  was  doing  a  positive 
injustice  to  his  black  troops  in  order  to  pander  to  an 
ignorant  public  opinion  which  he  knew  existed  else- 
where. I  know  that  some  people,  profoundly  ig- 
norant of  the  Sudan  and  its  tribes,  manners,  and 
customs,  will  hold  up  their  hands  in  holy  horror  and 
jump  to  the  conclusion  that  very  long  captivity  has 
engendered  a  spirit  of  vindictiveness  against  my  cap- 
tors which  has  deadened  in  me  every  sense  of  human- 
ity, and  in  this  they  will  be  wrong.  Lord  Kitchener 
made  a  grave  error  in  extending  to  a  horde  of  mur- 
derers the  advantages  of  civilised  warfare  and  the 
clemency  he  felt  called  upon  to  extend  to  them  will 
cost  England  the  loss  of  many  a  gallant  life  yet. 

* 'Everyman  in  the  Black  Battalions  was  entitled  to 
a  life  in  retaliation  for  the  murder  of  a  father,  the  rape 
of  a  mother,  wife,  daughter,  or  sister,  the  mutilation 
of  a  brother  or  son  and  his  own  bondage." 

It  is  indeed  a  marvel  that  even  the  Sirdar  could 
have  restrained  his  troops.  As  for  succouring 
the  wounded  dervishes,  it  was  a  dangerous  and 
almost  fatal  work.  A  woimded  dervish  only 
keeps  alive  until  he  can  send  his  spear  through 
his  would-be  saviour  and  many  a  poor  "Tommy 
Atkins"  was  found  stabbed  to  death  in  the  back 
by  the  black  devil  to  whom  he  was  giving  water. 
They  were  wild  beasts  in  every  sense  of  the  word 
and  should  have  been  so  treated. 


CHAPTER  V 

Slatin  Pasha — An  Interesting  Talk — Father  Ohrwalder  and 
his  Life — Fete  in  the  Hotel — Gordon  Memorial  College — 
Capt.  Archibald — The  Tse-tse  Fly  and  Sleeping  Sickness 
— Dr.  Seaman's  Report — Dum-dum  Fever — The  Well- 
come Laboratory  and  its  Work — Work  of  England — 
Pupils  at  Gordon  College — Its  Museum — Gordon's 
Journal — War  Drum  of  the  Mahdi — Church  in  the 
Palace — Neufeld — Different  Versions  of  Gordon's  Death 
— His  Head  at  Omdurman — The  Mahdi's  Regret  at  his 
Death. 

TIRED  out  from  our  interesting  day  in  Om- 
durman— mentally  and  physically  tired — 
we  are  sitting  on  the  veranda  watching  the  shadows 
lengthen  and  wondering  what  might  not  come 
out  of  them.  Are  we  so  safe  here  even  now? 
Would  not  these  people,  though  they  know  they 
are  better  off,  far  happier  than  under  the  Khalifa, 
delight  to  sound  the  war  drimi  and  swarm  down 
upon  us  infidels,  dealing  out  to  each  and  all  the 
fate  of  Gordon?  It  was  but  the  other  day  that 
they  did  try  something  of  the  sort,  but  it  seems 
peaceful  enough  here  to-night  save  for  the  ever 
tuneful  donkey.  The  air  to-day  is  hot,  and 
dreamy  with  the  musk-like  odour  of  the  mimosa, 
and  the  river  mturmtus  softly  onward  on  its  long 

75 


76  Islam  Lands 

march  to  the  sea ;  the  lights  of  Omdurman  twinkle 
over  yonder  and  the  Great  Bear  guards  us  the  same 
as  at  home. 

Some  Austrian  princes  have  just  arrived  and 
taken  the  rooms  next  mine.  What  a  lot  of 
luggage!  One  man  alone  has  fifty-two  pieces. 
What  can  they  put  in  them?  They  don't  look 
like  men  who  care  greatly  for  dress.  Slatin 
Pasha  in  white  flannel  is  with  them.  At  home 
we  would  take  him  for  a  goody-goody  fellow,  just 
the  sort  for  tennis  and  afternoon  teas.  He  is 
very  far  from  being  such  a  man.  He  smiles  and 
waves  his  hand  at  us,  and  later  on  comes  round 
to  our  chairs  and  sits  chatting  for  a  while.  He 
is  young  looking  for  his  years,  fifty-three.  His 
hair  and  curling  mustachio  are  scarcely  touched 
with  grey  and  his  eyes  have  a  merry  twinkle. 
There  is  absolutely  no  trace  of  his  captivity  imless 
it  be,  and  I  know  not — the  loss  of  the  third  finger 
on  his  right  hand.  While  he  stays,  no  mention 
is  made  of  his  captivity,  which  must  have  been 
a  great  relief  to  him.  He  lives  in  a  beautifully 
appointed  bungalow,  given  him  by  the  Egyptian 
government,  or  so  I  am  told.  If  you  paid  for 
it  yourself,  Sir  Rudolph,  I  pray  you  pardon  me. 

I  have  met  Slatin  Pasha  several  times.  He  is 
an  interesting  talker,  and  I  am  told  has  wonderful 
power  over  these  people  when  he  addresses  them. 
To  me  he  does  not  appear  conceited,  and  though 
willing  to  talk  of  his  unique  experience,  does  it  in 
a  most  natural  manner,  as  occurred  when  we  met 


Is  the  Khalifa  Dead  ?  77 

him  at  Col.  Asser's.  He  does  not  appear  to  be 
a  favoiirite  amongst  the  English  here,  though  I 
have  not  been  able  to  discover  exactly  why.  They 
do  say  *'he  is  a  foreigner. "  I  doubt  if  he  is  more 
so  than  many  of  the  royal  family,  and  he  certainly 
has  less  accent.  He  told  me  of  a  meeting  lately 
with  some  sheiks  of  a  distant  tribe,  who  questioned 
him  as  to  the  justice  of  the  tribute  demanded  by 
the  government.     "Why  do  you  ask  it?" 

"Why?  Why,  we  are  the  government,  we  con- 
trol you.  We  must  have  money  to  do  so  and 
administer  justice. " 

That  last  amused  the  stately  black  immensely. 

"Justice.  Now,  stop.  In  the  old  days  I  could 
take  my  men  and  raid  a  neighbouring  tribe  and 
return,  if  Allah  willed  it,  with  much  booty  of 
slaves  and  ivory,  or  if  Allah  turned  his  face  away, 
I  hoped  for  better  favour  next  time.  But  you  have 
stopped  all  that.  Why  I  cannot  even  quarrel 
with  my  own  brother;  you  have  the  power  and 
that  settles  it,  but  don't  talk  to  me  of  justice." 

I  asked  him  if  he  ever  saw  the  Khalifa  alive 
again,  and  he  answered,  "Yes,  but  only  at  a  dis- 
tance on  the  battle-field,  but  I  had  a  better 
revenge.  I  captured  all  his  wives  and  married 
them  to  my  own  soldiers,  and  then  sent  him  word. 
He  felt  very  badly  over  that." — "Is  he  really 
dead?" — "Oh,  yes,  I  saw  his  body,  he  ^s  dead 
fast  enough." 

Slatin  has  been  regulating  Cook's  guide  here 
for    that   statement  about   his    wives.      "  Why, 


78  Islam  Lands 

he  told  people  I  had  three  wives  over  there." 
— ''Three,"  I  ejaculated,  "twenty,  you  mean.'* 
— "I  told  him  that  if  he  did  that  again  he 
would  leave  the  Sudan,  I  would  not  have  my 
reputation  injured  in  that  manner,  and  now, 
when  he  shows  my  hut  over  yonder,  he  says, 
'Slatin  did  not  keep  his  wives  here,''' 

I  think  when  I  mentioned  the  twenty  wives  I 
caught  a  wink  pass  between  Slatin  and  Col. 
Asser. 

The  other  day  there  passed  me  in  the  hallway 
here  a  black-robed  figure,  moving  slowly,  a  man 
of  sorrows,  whose  countenance  attracted  and  held 
my  gaze,  and  the  memory  thereof  will  linger 
long  when  Khartoum  has  dropped  away  from  me, 
— Father  Ohrwalder,  whose  book  I  have  referred 
to. 

For  ten  years  he  also  was  a  prisoner  of  the 
Khalifa,  but  all  the  torture  of  the  devil  could 
not  cause  him  to  forswear  his  faith.  Neither 
when  opportunities  to  escape  were  afforded  him, 
would  he  go  until  those  unfortunate  nuns  could 
go  with  him.  He  returned  here  at  once  and  here 
he  has  lived  and  will  die.  Each  year  a  purse  is 
raised  to  send  him  off  to  the  north  for  a  rest  and 
each  year  he  uses  the  money  on  his  people,  never 
a  penny  for  himself.  What  will  be  his  reward 
when  he  meets  his  Master  face  to  face?  How 
his  life  shames  all  of  us! 

To-night  is  fete  night  in  this  hotel.  All  the 
English  world   should    come    here   to  dinner  in 


Fete  in  the  Hotel  79 

anticipation  of  which  the  gardens  behind  are 
illuminated  and  little  tables  with  shaded  candles 
and  dainty  china  scattered  around  under  the 
trees.  The  Khartoum  band  (not  the  donkeys) 
furnish  the  music,  and  a  funny  looking  lot  of 
men  they  are,  taken  it  would  seem  right  out 
of  some  opera  bouffe,  all  Sudanese  and  conse- 
quently black  as  night,  and  of  a  most  astonishing 
lot  of  assorted  sizes.  Yonder  is  one  not  more 
than  three  feet  tall  and  quite  as  wide,  blowing 
for  all  he  's  worth  into  the  biggest  trumpet  I  ever 
saw.  Next  him  towers  to  quite  seven  feet  the 
leader,  whom  I  can  compare  to  nothing  save  a 
lead  pencil,  in  a  white  uniform;  that  is  exactly 
his  shape,  to  which  a  tall  round  white  cap  adds  an 
additional  foot.  Soon  after  they  commence  to  play 
and  we  are  deeply  grateful  that  all  are  out  of  doors. 

I  don't  believe  that  mortal  man,  unless  he  lives 
here,  ever  listened  before  to  such  a  combination 
of  sounds;  it  was  certainly  astounding  and  when 
the  brass  band,  viz.,  the  donkeys,  in  the  street 
and  the  lions  in  the  adjoining  gardens  all  joined 
in,  the  effect  was  certainly  remarkable.  I  doubt 
if  in  the  wildest  moments  of  the  siege  Kliartoum 
heard  such  a  bombardment  of  sounds; — each 
man  and  beast  seemed  searching  his  soul  for 
sounds  to  tell  how  badly  he  felt. 

The  hop  in  the  dining-room  later  was  equally 
remarkable,  but  I  think  I  had  better  drop  the 
curtain  there,  save  to  mention  that  the  naturalist 
asked  Miss  P to  waltz.     Surely  if  I  owe  her 


8o  Islam  Lands 

a  grudge  for  anything  it  was  paid  then.  Poor 
woman,  how  she  was  hauled  around  and  banged 
against  things!  The  professor  said  he  knew  how 
to  reverse,  my  pity  for  the  lady  was  increased 
greatly  when  he  tried  it.  When  she  suggested 
that  they  stop  he  replied  that  there  was  "a  time 
for  all  things, "  but  did  not  appear  to  think  that 
that  period  had  arrived  as  yet.  I  may  add  that 
the  professor  was  past  sixty,  heavy  set,  with  lion- 
like head  and  mane.  He  used  his  feet  as  though 
he  were  stamping  off  the  snow,  and  to  dance  with 
him  must  have  been  greatly  like  dancing  with  an 
iron  safe.  When  it  ended  the  lady  retired  to 
bed,  appearing  no  more  until  next  day  noon.  The 
professor's  wife,  after  getting  him  his  gloves,  had 
promptly  disappeared,  being  wise  in  her  generation. 

Thanks  to  the  kindness  of  Major  Fetherstone- 
haugh,  we  have  come  provided  with  some  very 
good  letters  to  people  here,  and  let  me  add  par 
parenthesis,  don't  come  here  without  them. 
One  was  to  Capt.  Archibald  which  we  presented 
the  other  day  and  this  morning  we  passed  a  most 
interesting  hour  or  so  with  him  in  the  Gordon 
College,  a  large  brick  building  near  the  railway 
bridge  over  the  Blue  Nile. 

The  Gordon  College  is  a  memorial  built  by 
English  subscription,  one  hundred  thousand 
pounds,  raised  at  Lord  Kitchener's  suggestion, 
as  the  most  fitting  monument  to  General  Gordon. ' 

«  Something  of  a  contrast  to  the  millions  lost  in  erecting  a 
useless  Protestant  Cathedral  in  one  of  our  cities. 


a 
(n 

a 

u 
t-< 


Gordon  College  8i 

Its  aim  is  the  education  of  native  boys  in  order 
to  fit  them  for  holding  posts  of  responsibiHty 
in  the  future,  especially  that  of  schoolmaster. 
There  are  nearly  two  hundred  boys  and  they 
appear  to  work  with  a  will,  and  here  again  I 
am  impressed  with  the  idea  that  these  Sudanese 
are  a  much  superior  people  to  the  Egyptians. 
They  have  clear-cut  features  and  steady  eyes. 
The  effect  of  this  college  upon  the  people  should 
and  will  be  most  marked. 

Capt.  Archibald  met  us  at  the  entrance  and 
we  inspected  the  laboratories,  in  which  he  is 
especially  interested. 

Here  we  saw  the  famous  tse-tse  fly  and  the 
germs  of  that  terrible  disease,  ''sleeping  sickness, " 
with  which  all  Central  Africa  is  cursed,  and  for 
which,  up  to  the  present  moment,  no  antidote  or 
relief  has  been  found  save  in  death  alone,  and  the 
people  still  die  by  millions. 

It  appeait  that  the  fly  is  harmless  unless  it  has 
first  bitten  some  one  down  with  the  disease,  but 
thereafter  it  propagates  the  horror  upon  every 
one,  white  or  black,  and  once  bitten,  be  it  ever  so 
slightly,  the  germ  multiplies  so  appallingly  that 
you  are  at  once  past  all  hope. 

Capt.  Archibald  thinks  the  only  form  of  relief 
is  to  corral  every  native  so  inflicted  upon  an  island 
in  a  lake  and  care  for  them  until  they  die- 
But  would  they  not  have  to  cover  the  island 
with  a  netting?— or  the  flies  would  simply  use 
the  poor  wretches  as  a  microbe  laboratory,  and, 


82  Islam  Lands 

flying  off  to  pastures  new,  keep  up  the  mortality 
indefinitely. 

It  is  an  innocent  looking  light  brown  fly,  which 
alights  without  buzzing  and  bites  instantly,  so 
there  is  no  warning  or  opportunity  to  save  one- 
self. If  bitten  where  one  could  instantly  suck 
out  the  poison  there  might  be — though  it  is  doubt- 
ful— some  hope  of  saving  one's  life,  but  delay  an 
instant  and  nothing  remains  save  an  awful  fate, 
slow  and  horrible. 

Under  a  powerful  lens  we  watched  some  of  the 
live  microbes  move  amongst  the  blood  corpuscles. 
They  looked  black,  somewhat  like  an  elongated 
tadpole  with  the  tail  in  front,  and  appeared  so  near 
that  I  started  backwards. 

It  is  not  known  where  or  from  what  the  sleeping 
sickness  originated.  It  first  appeared  in  West 
Africa.  The  victim  first  has  fever,  which  may 
last  for  ten  days,  then  a  respite  varying  in  dura- 
tion, then  the  fever  again,  and  each  time  it  stays 
longer,  until  it  never  leaves.  A  rash  appears  on 
the  breast  and  great  lassitude  ensues.  It  is 
almost  impossible  to  rouse  the  victim,  who  sits 
drowsing  all  day  long  and  does  not  seem  to  suffer 
much  pain.  He  can  be  roused,  but  with  greatest 
difficulty,  becoming  more  and  more  difficult  as 
the  weeks  and  months  pass  by.  He  may  live 
several  years  but  is  as  surely  doomed  as  the  leper. 
As  the  end  approaches  he  may  have  spasms,  but 
only  as  all  mortality  may  have  when  the  great 
change    draws    near.     Finally    when    it    comes 


Sleeping  Sickness  8s 

there  is  nothing  left  of  what  once  was  a  man  but 
a  skeleton,  over  which  the  skin  is  drawn  tightly 
and  through  this  the  bones  often  protrude. 
Imagine  tens  of  thousands  dying  so.  Imagine 
the  silence  of  a  land  so  affected,  where  no  sound 
breaks  the  stillness  save  the  roar  of  the  lion  or 
harsh  cry  of  water  birds:  think  of  it, — there  is 
no  hope,  they  must,  all  who  remain,  go  the  same 
terrible  road.  Science  has  discovered  nothing  so 
far  save  the  existence  of  the  dread  bacilli. 

It  would  appear  that  the  sleeping  sickness  is 
contagious  and  it  is  imported,  that  over  sixty 
white  men  of  a  European  nation  have  been  in- 
valided home  with  that  disease  not  contracted 
by  the  bite  of  the  tse-tse  fly. 

Science  has  been  diligently  at  work  for  a  long 
time  upon  this  subject. 

"Slowly  it  has  been  shown  that  the  Glossina  pal- 
palis  is  the  one  insect  which  conveys  to  man  the 
wriggling  trypanosome,  which  first  produces  fever, 
and  then,  when  perhaps  years  afterwards  it  finds  a 
way  to  the  spinal  marrow,  sets  up  that  terrible  coma 
and  paralysis  which  ends  in  sleepy  death. 

This  venomous  fly  dwells  near  watercourses,  pre- 
ferring shade ;  it  will  bite  any  animal  with  a  backbone 
and  its  future  seems  assured,  unless  all  the  vertebrate 
animals  of  Africa  were  destroyed  in  order  to  deprive 
it  of  food.  Minchin  has  suggested  the  introduction 
of  jungle  fowls,  which  would  grub  up  the  larvae  of 
the  fly. 

Dr.  Koch  thought  that  if  the  crocodiles  on  which 


84  Islam  Lands 

the  flies  feed  were  exterminated  something  might  be 
done  to  check  its  spread.  But  a  glance  at  the  map 
of  Africa  and  the  recollection  of  the  1,000,000  square 
miles  over  which  the  tse-tse  fly  is  found  show  the 
futility  of  the  suggestion.  Meanwhile,  sleeping  sick- 
ness is  crawling,  nay,  flying  from  west  to  east  across 
Africa,  and  when  it  reaches  the  Sudan  may  find  its 
way  down  the  Nile  to  the  white  man's  coimtries." 

Dr.  Seaman  says  it  is  depoptdating  East  Africa 
and  on  the  borders  of  Lakes  Victoria  Nyanza 
and  Tanganyika  in  ten  years  has  killed  400,000 
persons. 

The  fly,  whose  bite  causes  the  fatal  illness, 
lays  no  eggs,  but  the  larvae  are  reproduced  in  the 
bodies  of  the  females  and  are  laid  to  develop  in 
the  decaying  vegetation  on  the  shores  of  a  lake 
or  running  water.  The  flies  have  never  been 
found  more  than  150  feet  from  the  water's  edge. 
They  bite  like  a  horse-fly,  with  a  sharp  prick, 
but  Europeans  are  very  much  less  apt  to  be  bitten 
than  the  natives.  This,  Dr.  Seaman  said,  is 
because  Europeans  wear  more  clothes,  and  white 
apparel  does  not  attract  the  pests,  and  that  the 
fly,  in  biting  a  man  already  infected  with  the 
sleeping  sickness  and  sucking  his  blood,  takes  in 
a  parasite  known  as  a  Trypanosoma  gamhiensis. 
This  is  an  eel-like  microcosm,  which  is  passed 
on  to  another  himian  victim,  and,  entering  his 
blood,  attacks  the  red  corpuscles.  No  remedy 
has  yet  been  discovered  for  the  ravages  of  this 
pest.    At  first  the  patient  suffers  from  irregular, 


ZH 

o 

-^ 

Ui 

CD 
> 

O 


**Dum-dum"  Fever  85 

intermittent  fever.  This  stage  may  last  from 
two  or  three  months  to  as  many  years.  Then  the 
pest  attacks  the  cerebro-spinal  fluid.  The  pa- 
tient becomes  anaemic  and  drowsy.  He  refuses 
food  or  falls  asleep  while  masticating  it.  He  is 
exceedingly  susceptible  to  cold,  and  Dr.  Seaman 
declared  that  he  had  known  one  case  in  which  a 
sufferer  had  lain  so  close  to  a  fire  that  his  arm  had 
been  charred  without  his  noticing  it.  Some  cases 
have  been  known  to  survive  for  eight  years 
from  the  time  of  infection,  but  generally  death 
occurs  sooner. 

The  British  Government  is  fighting  the  disease 
by  segregating  its  victims  in  hospital  camps  and 
forcing  all  villages  to  be  removed  two  miles  from 
the  water  fronts.  At  the  college  there  was  also 
the  microbe  of  the  ''Dum-dum"  fever,  so  fatally 
known  in  India.  Then  a  vial  was  handed  to  me 
which  held  enough  cholera  to  poison  all  Europe. 
I  gave  it  back. 

Capt.  Archibald  has  done  an  immense  work  in 
exterminating  the  mosquitoes  here.  They  are 
almost  unknown,  and  when  I  told  him  I  had  killed 
one  he  looked  annoyed  and  said  he  would  have  it 
** looked  into."  Every  boat  which  comes  down 
the  White  Nile  is  fumigated  and  oil  thrown  on 
the  bilge  water.  Certainly  here,  far  towards  the 
equator  and  right  over  the  river,  we  sleep  with  no 
bars  and  feel  and  hear  no  mosquitoes. 

All  nature  seems  armed  against  mankind  here- 
abouts.    Capt.  Archibald  loosened  from  a  bottle 


86  Islam  Lands 

two  vile-looking  enlarged  bedbugs,  which   came 
from  one  of  the  native  beds,  and  whose  bite  pro- 
duces fatal  disease  of  the  liver  and  spleen. 
">  The  common  house-fly  is  almost  as  much  an 
enemy  of  the  human  race. 

It  is  necessary  to  exterminate  noxious  insects 
in  order  to  make  the  tropics  a  white  man's  land; 
but  it  is  necessary  to  preserve  also  the  useful 
insects.  Even  one  of  the  tse-tse  flies  may  be  an 
ally  of  man,  for  it  preserves  its  own  spheres  of 
influence  from  other  tse-tses.  In  the  field  of 
agriculture,  while  the  experience  of  the  United 
States  has  taught  that  the  boll  weevil  may  do 
untold  damage  to  the  cotton  fields  we  have  also 
learned  that  the  Australian  lady -bird  may  preserve 
the  California  orange  groves  by  exterminating  the 
scale  insect. 

In  Khartoum  Mr.  Henry  S.  Wellcome  estab- 
lished a  few  years  ago  a  research  laboratory, 
where  investigations  could  be  undertaken  into 
the  cause  of  the  numerous  diseases  to  which 
tropical  climates  are  liable,  and  an  enormous 
amount  of  good  work  has  been  done.  Recently 
the  Wellcome  Laboratory  has  been  placed  imder 
the  Department  of  Education  of  the  Sudan, 
and  the  third  report,  a  valuable  volume,  is  the 
first  issued  under  the  authority  of  the  Sudan 
government.  The  Director  of  the  laboratory 
is  Dr.  Andrew  Balfour,  and  this  report  supplies 
unmistakable  evidence  of  his  fitness  for  the  post. 
He  has  a  staff  of  assistants  all  well  qualified  for 


The  Wellcome  Laboratory         ^7 

the  work  they  have  to  do,  and  it  is  interesting 
to  note,  as  showing  the  changes  brought  about, 
that  the  chief  native  laboratory  attendant,  who 
can  now  be  trusted  to  make  excellent  blood 
fibres  for  microscopic  examination,  was  one  of  the 
fighting  dervishes  in  Kordofan,  while  the  man 
who  keeps  the  museimi  clean  served  in  the  ranks 
of  the  Khalifa  at  the  battle  of  Omdurman.  It 
is  impossible  to  give  even  a  summary  of  the  work 
recorded  in  this  volume,  but  a  few  points  may  be 
mentioned.  A  useful  article  is  that  on  the  con- 
struction of  houses  in  the  tropics,  by  Mr.  W.  H. 
McLean.  Amongst  other  matters  he  insists  on 
the  importance  of  shade,  for  it  has  only  compara- 
tively recently  been  recognised  that  sunlight  itself 
in  excess  is  directly  harmful  to  white  races.  The 
main  use  of  the  pigment  in  the  skin  of  negroes 
is  to  keep  out  the  light  rays. 

In  recent  years  it  has  been  discovered  that  no 
small  proportion  of  the  more  important  tropical 
diseases  are  due  to  microbes  brought  to  man  by 
means  of  fleas  and  other  insects,  and  several 
papers  in  this  report  are  devoted  to  this  subject. 
The  diseases  such  as  sleeping  sickness  and  Kala- 
azar  are  produced  in  this  manner,  and  a  full 
knowledge  of  the  subject  may  be  of  value  in  the 
prevention  of  these  maladies.  Similar  diseases 
attack  the  lower  animals, — camels,  and  mules, 
and  even  fowls  may  be  affected.  An  important 
section  is  that  concerned  with  Economic  Ento- 
mology, that  is  to  say,  the  study  of  insects  which 


88  Islam  Lands 

affect  the  crops;  this  is  well  illustrated  by  coloured 
plates.  Dr.  MacTier  Pirrie  did  much  good  work 
in  the  study  of  the  anthropology  of  the  Sudan, 
but  unfortunately  he  contracted  Kala-azar,  from 
which  he  died ;  the  anthropological  notes  collected 
by  him  are  of  immense  interest.  Of  economic 
importance  is  the  report  on  the  Sudan  gums,  by 
Mr.  E.  S.  Edie. 

It  is  for  these  reasons,  among  others,  that  the 
English  entomological  committee  has  been  formed. 
It  will,  as  the  first  of  its  duties,  collate,  examine, 
and  report  on  noxious  insects  from  all  over  the 
Empire,  and  it  will  endeavour  to  collect  and  relate 
all  the  information  concerning  their  habits,  their 
life  histories,  and  the  means  of  effectually  hold- 
ing them  in  check. 

How  earnestly  the  English  appear  to  enter 
into  the  workin  a  far-off  land, — all  over  the  globe 
we  find  them  deeply  interested  in  giving  their 
lives  for  the  benefit  of  the  himian  race  and  the 
advancement  of  their  Empire,  an  advancement 
which  in  this  day  and  date  always  results  in  good 
to  the  lands  they  occupy.  Look  at  Egypt,  look 
at  this  dark  land.  Where  would  the  former  be 
to-day  if  England  had  retired,  where  would  she 
descend  to  if  England  were  to  retire  to-day  imless 
taken  over  by  some  other  European  power  like 
France  or  Germany?  Just  where  I  saw  her- in 
1873, — gorgeous  to  look  upon.  Oriental  and 
picturesque,  but  with  no  justice  or  peace  for  the 
people,  downtrodden  and  oppressed  in  every  way, 


From  a  photograph  by  the  Author 

The  Return  of  the  Sacred  Carpet 


Work  of  England  89 

with  no  more  rights  for  the  masses  than  for  their 
beasts  of  burden,  with  every  Pasha  and  petty 
official  robbing  them  constantly  and  to  the  full, 
with  no  hope  in  the  present  or  future.  This 
Sudan  under  the  fanatic  Mahdi  and  Khalifa 
was  decimated  and  laid  desolate.  Even  to-day 
the  traveller  is  constantly  horrified  by  meeting 
poor  wretches  whose  hands  and  feet  were  hewn 
off  during  that  awful  period,  and  they  were  left 
to  live  or  die  as  the  case  might  be. 

To-day  here  at  Gordon  College  one  sees  scores 
of  bright-eyed,  clean-looking  boys,  all  interested 
in  their  work,  and  through  them  will  come  the 
hope  and  salvation  of  the  land.  We  saw  there 
the  Mahdi's  grandson  and  the  son  of  the  Khalifa, 
a  child  picked  up  on  the  battle-field  at  Omdur- 
man,  a  bright,  pleasing  fellow.  On  the  whole 
they  seemed  a  vastly  more  superior  lot  of  stu- 
dents than  the  same  number  in  any  black  school 
in  America. 

Personally,  I  do  not  consider  that  any  good  is 
done  our  black  population  by  raising  them  above 
the  working  classes.  They  are  inferior  minded 
and  will  so  remain.  There  may  be  a  few  excep- 
tions, but  the  mass  are  only  fitted  for  servants  and 
are  good  for  little  when  raised  above  that  rank. 

Perhaps  the  same  would  not  hold  the  world 
over  as  regards  the  negroes.  Perhaps  it  arises 
in  our  land  from  their  contact  with  the  whites 
and  their  generations  of  slavery.  Certainly  the 
Nubians  here  have  an  erect  carriage  and  open 


90  Islam  Lands 

cast  of  countenance  unknown  to  our  ex-slaves, — 
an  altogether  higher  type. 

These  are  splendid  specimens  of  mankind 
physically.  Would  they  delight  in  cutting  our 
throats  if  they  could  do  so,  preferring  the  horrors 
of  the  old  order  of  things  to  the  peace,  security, 
and  plenty  of  to-day?  Then  their  lives  were  not 
safe  a  moment,  now  they  know  they  may  walk  all 
the  land  in  absolute  security,  but,  when  all 's 
said,  we  are  to  them  but  dogs  of  Christians. 

What  a  horror  would  have  spread  over  all  the 
world  and  this  land  in  particular  had  the  forces 
of  the  Khalifa  prevailed  over  yonder  on  that 
dusty  plain  sparkling  imder  the  midday's  sun. 
One  shudders  to  contemplate  it. 

Fortunately  the  world  has,  when  it  needed  them, 
produced  its  Martels,  its  Sobieskis,  and  its 
Kitcheners.  Fortunately  they  have  prevented  the 
Crescent  of  the  infidels  from  waxing  more  and 
more  until  it,  as  Mohammed  prophesied,  became 
like  imto  a  full  moon,  pervading  and  prevailing 
over  all  the  world.  Thank  God  it  is  yet  a  cres- 
cent and  will  never  become  a  full  moon,  a  crescent 
which  will  dwindle  and  dwindle  until  it  fades 
quite  away.  At  least,  let  us  trust  so,  for  it  repre- 
sents as  it  stands  to-day  all  that  is  base  and 
horrible  to  man. 

All  this  time  we  have  been  standing  in  the 
Museum  of  the  College  where  there  is  much  of 
interest.  My  hand  is  resting  on  the  MS.  of  Gor- 
don's Chinese  Journal  and  yonder  is  the  great 


Church  Service  91 

war  drum  of  the  Mahdi  formed  by  a  section  of  the 
trunk  of  a  tree  with  a  skin  stretched  tightly 
across  it.  An  uncouth  looking  instrimient  but 
when  fully  aroused,  to  do  which  takes  they  say 
half  an  hour,  it  possesses  a  voice  which  can  be 
heard  for  twenty  miles.  As  I  tap  it  with  my  cane 
I  seem  to  hear  afar  off  a  murmur  as  of  the  approach 
of  a  mighty  multitude.  I  cannot  but  wonder 
what  would  be  the  effect  upon  that  crowd  of 
Sudanese  which  I  see  through  the  window  and 
of  those  masses  in  Omdurman  if  the  voice  of  this 
old  drum  were  to  pour  forth  its  summons  once 
more.  Does  the  nature  of  a  race  ever  really 
change?  Would  not  the  slightest  show  of  weak- 
ness or  hesitation  on  the  part  of  England  produce 
another  Khalifa  if  not  a  Mahdi? 

Yesterday  we  went  to  church  in  the  Palace, 
which  stands  on  the  foundation  of  the  one  Gordon 
used.  From  my  seat  I  could  look  down  on  the 
spot  where  he  met  his  death  and  received  his 
reward,  for  surely  his  great  reward  was  given  him 
the  instant  his  soul  left  its  earthly  habitation. 
There  could  be  no  place  of  departed  spirits  for 
him;  he  must  have  gone  home  to  the  God  he 
worshipped. 

The  court  is  a  mass  of  beautiful  flowering  trees 
bending  over  pathways,  cool  and  shady,  and  the 
whole  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  a  stately 
yellow  and  white  structure,  almost  new,  which  I 
did  not  care  in  the  least  to  inspect. 

The  service  was  conducted  by  one  of  the  thou- 


92  Islam  Lands 

sands  of  mediocre  curates  who  make  the  service 
of  the  Church  of  England  so  often  intolerable. 
The  singing  by  the  officers  was  very  good,  and  the 
bishop  gave  a  sermon  eminently  suited  to  his 
congregation,  among  which  the  Sirdar  and  the 
Duke  of  Cumberland  were  numbered.  I  confess 
I  did  not  hear  much  of  it.  The  prospect  from  the 
window  with  all  the  memories  it  evoked  drove 
the  speaker  and  his  words  far  away.  I  could  see 
in  the  distance  the  statue  of  Gordon  on  his  camel 
and  in  my  mind  could  hear  the  shrieks  and 
screeches  of  the  barbarous  hordes  as  they  rushed 
over  yonder  barrier  and  in  at  this  courtyard  to 
be  met  by  the  blue-eyed,  grey -haired  man,  "armed 
only  with  a  little  stick"  {?),  A  thrust  of  a  spear 
ended  his  misery,  and  then  his  head  was  cut  off 
and  carried  to  the  Mahdi,  while  every  passing 
brute  thrust  his  spear  into  the  quivering  body, 
until  it  was  torn  to  shreds  and  trampled  into  the 
dust,  so  that  spot  yonder  was  Gordon's  grave  as 
well  as  the  scene  of  his  death. 

That  is  one  version  of  his  death,  but  not  to 
my  thinking  the  true  one,  as  it  does  not  fit  the 
character  of  the  man  as  we  know  it.  Let  us 
read  the  other  version  and  judge  between  them. 
Neufeld  states  that: 

"Those  who  knew  Gordon  will  believe  when  I  aver 
that  he  died  as  they  must  all  have  believed  that  he 
died,  in  spite  of  the  official  and  semi-official  accounts 
to  the  contrary,  as  the  soldier  and  lion-hearted  man 
he  was.     Gordon  did  not  rest  his  hand  on  the  hilt 


Charles  Neufeld  93 

of  his  sword  and  turn  his  back  to  his  enemies  to  re- 
ceive his  death  wound.  He  drew  his  sword  and  used 
it,  and  when  he  fell,  his  sword  was  dripping  with  the 
blood  of  his  assailants,  for  no  less  than  sixteen  or 
seventeen  did  he  cut  down  with  it.  When  he  fell 
his  left  hand  was  blacked  by  the  unburned  powder 
from  his  at  least  thrice  emptied  revolver.  His  boots 
were  slippery  with  the  blood  of  the  slain.  Gordon 
died  in  an  heroic  attempt  to  reach  his  troops,  died  as 
only  Gordon  could  die.  Let  the  world  be  misinformed 
and  deceived  about  Sudan  affairs,  with  the  tales 
of  so-called  guides  and  spies,  but  let  it  be  told  the 
truth  of  Gordon's  death." 

To  that  add  the  account  of  one  who  fought 
with  him,  was  never  away  from  his  side,  and  was 
trusted  by  him  to  the  full.  Let  him  tell  the  tale 
of  that  fatal  25th  of  January. 

To  understand  the  events  of  the  day  one  must 
first  study  the  plans  of  the  Palace.  The  present 
structure  is  of  the  same  general  outline  as  the  one 
destroyed. 

As  is  the  case  in  all  houses  in  hot  climates,  the 
first  story  is  very  high,  and  we  mount  a  long  flight 
of  steps  to  reach  the  chapel  formed  in  one  of  the 
salons  in  the  eastern  wing.  As  I  ^  have  stated, 
from  my  window  overlooking  the  court  I  command 
the  scene  of  Gordon's  last  stand  and  death. 

The  Palace  faces  north  towards  the  Blue  Nile 
and  consists  of  the  front  and  two  long  wings 
enclosing  a  spacious  courtyard;  across  the  fourth 
side  towards  the  town  and  desert  a  tall  iron  fence 


94  Islam  Lands 

connects  the  east  and  west  wings.  In  the  old 
palace  there  was  a  vine  trellis  where  now  the  gates 
stand,  and  through  and  over  this  the  savages 
swarmed  in  countless  hundreds,  crowding  the 
court  and  pouring  forward  and  up  the  staircase 
in  the  west  wing  at  the  top  of  which  they  en- 
countered Gordon  and  Orphali. 

Let  the  latter  tell  the  story;  it  certainly  proves 
that  both  fought  to  the  end  and  that  Gordon's 
death  was  very  different  from  the  accounts 
usually  given  to  the  world,  which  have  always 
struck  me  as  theatrical  and  foreign  to  the  char- 
acter of  Gordon,  whose  bravery  has  never  been 
doubted  and  who  would  certainly  sell  his  life 
as  dearly  as  possible,  knowing  how  important 
that  life  was  to  his  soldiers  and  the  people  of 
the  town. 

"About  3  A.M.  Mohammed  Omar,  the  messenger 
with  Cavass  Ali  Agha  Gadri,  roused  me  and  said 
that  an  attack  was  being  made  at  Kabakat  (boats) 
on  the  White  Nile.  I  informed  the  Pasha  (Gordon) 
who  told  me  to  run  to  the  telegraph  office  (in  the 
palace)  for  more  news,  and  there  I  got  in  touch  with 
Hassen  Bey,  who  was  on  duty  (at  the  telegraph  office 
two  and  one  half  miles  away) .  He  wired  that  an  at- 
tack had  been  made  but  had  been  repulsed.  I  in- 
formed the  Pasha  (Gordon)  who  told  me  to  close  the 
door  of  his  rooms  again,  which  I  did  and  sat  down  to 
make  coffee.  Then  we  heard  more  firing  from  the 
White  Nile  and  the  cavasscs  having  run  to  the  terrace 
called  to  me  that  the  dervishes  were  coming  into  the 


Storming  the  Palace  95 

town.  I  "ran  down  to  Buluk  Bashi  Ibrahim  El 
Nahass  who  had  twenty-four  men;  fifteen  we  placed 
at  the  windows  (rooms  on  the  right,  ground  plan) 
and  nine  at  the  terrace  overlooking  the  garden  (G). 
There  were  also  twenty-four  cavasses  and  ferrashis; 
thirteen  were  placed  at  the  windows  (left  of  ground 
plan)  under  my  second,  Niman  Agha,  eight  on  the 
terrace  (F),  and  three  at  the  door  of  the  palace  (B). 
Each  man  had  ten  dozen  cartridges,  besides  which 
each  party  had  a  spare  case  of  ammunition. 

"All  these  arrangements  did  not  take  five  min- 
utes as  each  knew  his  place.  I  then  ran  up  to  the 
Governor-General's  room  and  informed  him  of  the 
arrangements. 

"The  day  had  now  dawned.  The  dervishes  who 
ran  to  the  front  of  the  palace  were  killed  by  the  fire 
from  the  steamer.  About  seventy  were  killed  in  the 
garden  by  the  soldiers  on  the  terrace,  and  then  we 
saw  the  dervishes  swarming  over  the  trellis  (A). 
They  were  met  by  the  fire  from  the  windows  and 
terraces.  They  came  very  quickly  and  in  great 
numbers.  Some  ran  to  the  entrance  (B),  killed  the 
guards,  and  opened  the  door.  Then  they  killed  all 
the  telegraph  clerks  except  Esmatt  who  hid  amongst 
the  sacks  in  the  store-room.  On  the  terrace  they 
killed  the  soldiers  and  Nahass  seeing  the  massacre 
jumped  from  the  window.  Four  men  were  on  guard  at 
the  private  stairs  but  were  soon  all  killed  and  after 
that  the  soldiers  on  the  terrace  (F)  were  killed. 
As  others  broke  open  the  door  to  the  private  apart- 
ments, Gordon  Pasha  met  them  with  his  sword  in 
his  right  hand  and  his  revolver  in  his  left,  and  killed 
two  who  fell  at  the  door  and  one  who  fell  down-stairs ; 


96  Islam  Lands 

the  others  ran  away.  Then  we  heard  the  breaking 
of  the  private  door  (B)  while  the  Pasha  was  loading 
his  revolver.  I  was  soon  wounded  in  the  face  and 
the  Pasha  in  the  left  shoulder;  the  man  who  wounded 
him  was  a  half-blood  slave. 

"We  followed  then  to  Rouchid  Bey's  room,  killing 
three  and  wounding  many,  others  ran  away  and  fell 
down  the  stairs.  We  went  back  to  the  Pasha's  room 
and  reloaded  but  the  dervishes  came  back,  and  I 
was  wounded  in  my  right  leg.  We  attacked  the 
dervishes  on  the  private  staircase  (D)  and  while 
passing  the  door  a  native  of  Khartoum  dressed  as  a 
dervish  stabbed  the  Pasha,  with  a  spear,  in  the  left 
shoulder.  I  cut  at  the  man's  hand  and  he  ran  off  and 
was  killed  by  falling  on  a  spear  held  by  one  of  his 
companions  on  the  steps. 

**  More  dervishes  swarmed  along  the  corridor  (from 
H)  and  we  returned  to  meet  them ;  I  received  a  thrust 
in  the  left  hand,  but  the  Pasha  cut  the  man  down, 
kicked  him  on  the  head  and  he  died;  while  we  were 
standing  in  the  corridor  a  tall  negro  fired  a  shot  from 
the  door  (H)  and  the  bullet  struck  Gordon  in  the  right 
breast  and  the  Pasha  ran  up  and  shot  the  man  dead. 
The  dervishes  ran  to  the  private  stairs  and  we  fired 
into  them  but  the  Pasha  was  getting  weak  from  loss 
of  blood.  We  fought  these  dervishes  down  the  private 
stairs  until  we  reached  the  last  one  when  a  native  of 
Katimeh  speared  the  Pasha  in  the  right  hip,  but  I 
shot  him,  and  the  Pasha  fell  down  on  the  cavasses 
mat  at  the  door.  He  was  dead,  and  as  I  turned  to 
seek  refuge  in  the  finance  ofl&ce  (F)  I  was  struck 
down  and  lost  my  senses. 

"  Left  for  dead  I  was  helped  in  the  afternoon  by 


Manner  of  Gordon's  Death         97 

a  man  whom  I  knew  to  go  to  the  river  for  water. 
Then  I  saw  the  body  of  the  Pasha  but  the  head  was 
not  there." 

The  blood  stains  on  that  staircase  were  visible 
in  1887  and  all  who  saw  them  remarked  upon  their 
number  and  extent,  stating  that  it  was  impossible 
that  they  should  have  come  from  one  body. 
Neufeld  saw  them  that  year  (1887).  This  is 
certainly  a  sure  proof  that  Gordon  and  Orphali 
(the  only  two  men  upstairs)  fought  all  the  way 
down  those  four  flights. 

It  is  quite  impossible  that  all  that  blood  could 
have  come  from  a  body  which  had  been  dragged 
down  those  steps  some  time  after  death.  Know- 
ing Gordon's  reputation  for  bravery  it  is  quite 
certain  that  he  would  fight  to  the  last.  Those 
stains  came  from  the  dervishes  through  whose 
masses  he  so  vainly  tried  to  hack  his  way  to  his 
troops. 

All  that  is  more  in  keeping  with  the  known 
character  of  the  man  than  the  statement  that 
^'He  made  a  gesture  of  scorn  with  his  right  hand 
and  turned  his  back. — He  made  no  resistance 
and  did  not  fire  a  shot, "  a  statement  which  comes 
from  a  man  whose  tongue  Gordon  had  threatened 
to  cut  out  for  lying  and  who,  when  he  escaped  to 
Cairo,  sustained  his  reputation. 

While  one  does  not  believe  that  Slatin  Pasha 
would  knowingly  make  a  misstatement,  the  con- 
dition of  that  staircase  certainly  proves  that  he 


98  Islam  Lands 

was  wrong  when  he  stated  that  "the  first  man 
up  the  steps  plunged  his  spear  into  Gordon's 
body,  who  fell  forward  on  his  face  without  uttering 
a  word,  when  his  murderers  dragged  his  body- 
down  the  steps  to  the  entrance  and  there  cut  off 
his  head."  They  certainly  cut  off  his  head  but 
he  most  certainly  carried  that  head  on  his  shoul- 
ders to  the  fatal  spot.  His  head  was  sent  to  the 
Mahdi  at  Omdurman,  where  it  was  pitched  in 
the  sand  at  the  feet  of  yonder  smiling  little  man, 
Slatin  Pasha, — but  he  did  not  smile  then.  In 
chains  himself,  he  was  forced  to  gaze  unmoved 
on  the  awful  sight.  "The  blue  eyes  were  half 
opened,  the  mouth  perfectly  natural,  but  the 
hair  of  his  head  and  his  short  whiskers  were 
almost  white." 

"Is  not  this  the  head  of  your  imcle  the  un- 
believer?" 

"What  of  it?  A  brave  soldier  who  fell  at  his 
post ;  happy  is  he  to  have  fallen,  his  sufferings  are 
over." 

It  is  said  the  head  was  fixed  in  a  tree  in  Omdur- 
man where  the  people  stoned  it. 

You  will  look  in  vain  for  any  tree  there  now. 

It  is  stated  that  the  Mahdi  was  very  wroth  at 
the  death  of  Gordon,  whom  he  really  admired  and 
respected,  and  that  he  had  given  orders  that  he 
was  not  to  be  harmed  in  any  way. 


CHAPTER  VI 

The  Government's  Warning — Mr.  Gladstone — Slowness  of 
his  Government — Lord  Cromer's  Opinion  of  Gordon — 
Gordon's  Religion  and  its  Effect — Fatal  Delays  of  the 
Government — Lord  Northbrook's  Opinion  of  Gladstone 
— Gordon's  Last  Cry — His  Funeral  Services  Fourteen 
Years  Later. 

WARNED  before  General  Gordon  started 
south  that  he  was  undertaking  a  service 
of  great  difficulty  and  danger,  the  government 
cannot  claim  that  it  did  not  know  his  danger. 
True,  he  himself  was  optimistic  when  he  went 
there,  but  on  March  8th  of  that  fatal  year  '84  he 
warned  them  of  the  storm  which  was  likely  to 
break  and  of  the  probability  of  his  being  "hemmed 
in,"  and  he  added,  ''I  feel  a  conviction  that  I 
shall  be  caught  in  Khartoum." 

The  Mudir  of  Berber  had  been  advised  by 
telegraph  of  the  intended  abandonment  of  the 
Sudan  by  Egypt.  Gordon  confirmed  this,  and 
the  whole  was  a  fatal  error,  for  it  took  the  heart 
out  of  the  tribes,  who,  in  self-preservation,  could 
do  no  less  than  make  the  best  terms  possible  with 
the  rising  power  of  the  Mahdi. 

To  an  outsider  reading  the  records  to-day  of 
99 


100  Islam  Lands 

those  fatal  months  the  idea  foremost  in  his  mind 
must  be  that  much  valuable  time  was  wasted  in 
sending  despatches  upon  unimportant  matter  and 
calmly  waiting  the  reply  when  every  moment  was 
precious  if  there  was  any  real  desire  to  save 
Gordon. 

Was  the  Hon.  Mr.  Gladstone  ever  concerned 
with  anything  save  his  own  career?  While  the 
savages  were  gathering  by  tens  of  thousands  he 
calmly  demands  before  any  move  can  be  made 
that  "a  full  report  be  sent  by  mail  as  to  the  de- 
tails of  each  garrison,"  "a  report  already  sent 
him  three  months  previously  and  which  filled 
five  pages  of  a  blue  book," — to  be  sent  hy  mail 
when  every  hour  was  precious.  If  all  the  hours 
wasted  by  such  demands  could  have  been  saved 
the  relief  would  have  reached  Khartoum  months 
before  it  did.  Gordon  would  have  been  saved, 
and  England  would  have  been  spared  that  in- 
scription on  his  tomb  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral. 
On  the  other  hand  it  is  stated  of  Gordon  that  he 
possessed 

"none  of  the  qualities  necessary  for  that  post,  coolness, 
self-control,  and  clear-headedness.  He  should  have 
been  consistent,  deliberate  in  the  formation  of  his 
plans  after  a  careful  study  of  the  facts,  and  steadfast 
in  their  execution  when  once  his  mind  was  made  up." 

On  the  contrary, 

"  he  was  hot  headed,  impulsive,  and  swayed  by  his 
emotions,  possessed  a  total  absence  of  self-control, 


Slatin's  Reltg^oii; !'  ;  i  i  ,\    loi 

liable  to  fits  of  ungovernable  and  often  unreasonable 
passion,  formed  rapid  opinions  without  deliberation, 
and  rarely  held  to  one  opinion  for  long;  his  journal  is  a 
mass  of  inconsistencies;  in  fact,  aside  from  personal 
courage,  great  fertility  in  military  resources,  a  lively 
repugnance  to  injustice  and  oppression  and  meanness 
of  every  description,  and  the  power  of  acquiring  in- 
fluence over  those  immediately  around  him,  he  does 
not  appear  to  have  possessed  any  of  the  qualities 
which  would  have  fitted  him  to  undertake  the  difficult 
task  in  the  Sudan."  ^ 

Was  not  Gordon*s  religion  at  times  rather 
more  of  a  hindrance  than  a  help?  He  could  not 
believe  that  those  Europeans  who  had  adopted 
the  religion  of  the  prophet  were  to  be  trusted  or 
believed.  I  doubt  if  like  scruples  would  have 
disturbed  Napoleon  or  Washington,  Wellington 
or  Grant,  if  such  apostates  could  have  been  made 
use  of  to  save  a  city. 

Is  it  true  that  Gordon  absolutely  refused  to 
receive  Slatin  and  those  others  or  even  to  answer 
their  letters?  Was  it  any  of  his  business  whether 
people  changed  their  religion  or  not? — and  cer- 
tainly that  act  affected  the  individual  only,  and 
does  not  appear  to  have  affected  these  in  question  at 
all  as  they  had  none  of  any  sort  worth  mentioning, 
like  a  guide  I  had  in  Turkestan  who  changed  his 
for  business  purposes.  Life  being  all  we  are  sure 
of,  how  many  are  there  amongst  us  who  would 
not  do  likewise  if  death  by  torture  were  the  al- 
ternative?   Slatin 's  religious  retrograde  does  not 

*  Lord  Cromer's  Modern  Egypt. 


102      ;  f ;: '.  :  ^    Isiam.  Lands 

appear  to  have  affected  his  standing  here,  though 
his  relapse  to  Christianity  certainly  has  affected  it 
with  the  followers  of  the  prophet.  He  could  re- 
turn to  us  and  easily  assume  his  ancient  faith, 
but  he  could  not  go  to  the  Arabs  and  claim  their 
religion  as  his  own  now, — they  would  promptly 
cut  his  throat. 

The  bronze  face  of  Gordon's  statue  gives  one 
a  far  different  impression  of  the  man  from  that 
conveyed  by  his  photograph.  No  one  can  look 
upon  the  latter  and  call  it  strong,  especially  in 
the  eyes.  He  was  undoubtedly  a  noble  character, 
a  good  general  in  many  respects,  but  not  the  one 
to  deal  with  these  tigers  in  war. 

One  is  forced  to  believe  that  Gordon,  while  a 
brave  man,  was  not  a  great  general.  He  seemed 
to  imagine  that  by  his  personality  and  by  ad- 
dresses he  could  *'deal  with  savages";  it  would 
have  been  as  easy  to  do  so  with  a  herd  of  wolves. 
It  certainly  was  his  duty  to  have  gotten,  as  he 
could  have  done,  all  the  Europeans  out  of  Khar- 
toum, knowing  that  the  native  population  was 
on  its  own  soil  and  would — as  they  did  do — pass 
over  to  the  Mahdi  and  be  no  worse  off  save  for 
imprisonment  for  a  few.  Realising  a  week  before 
the  fall  that  the  case  was  hopeless,  he  did  attempt 
to  send  all  away  that  he  could,  and  ordered  a 
steamboat  gotten  ready  for  that  purpose,  but  the 
people  refused  to  go  without  him  and  even  plotted 
to  carry  him  away  in  his  sleep.  Discovering 
this  he  smiled  and  stated  tbat  while  it  was  his 


Faithful  Natives  103 

duty  to  save  them  if  he  could  do  so,  it  was  also 
his  duty  as  a  soldier  to  "stick  to  his  post. "  Some- 
what different  that  from  the  commander  of  Port 
Arthur  who  by  his  surrender  released  that  large 
Japanese  force  for  a  northern  movement,  and  so 
sealed  the  fate  of  his  country's  cause. 

General  Gordon  knew  the  hesitating  policy 
of  his  government  then  in  office,  none  better,  and 
in  his  heart  I  doubt  if  he  ever  believed  that  relief 
would  reach  him  in  time. 

The  fortifications,  or  what  is  left  of  them,  do  not 
impress  the  beholder  to-day  with  the  belief  that 
they  could  ever  have  been  very  effective.  Yet  they 
held  the  savages  at  bay  and  if  the  defence  could 
have  been  maintained  for  two  days  longer  history 
might  bear  another  record,  for  even  the  Arabs 
acknowledge  that  the  appearance  of  those  boats 
would,  by  showing  that  relief  was  really  coming, 
have  saved  the  city.  Their  non-appearance 
disheartened  the  tribes, — so  Khartoum  fell  and 
the  power  of  the  false  prophet  rose  and  rose  to  a 
flood  which  cost  England  years  of  work,  millions 
of  treasure,  and  hosts  of  valuable  lives  to  arrest 
and  turn. 

While  it  may  have  been  a  mistake  to  send  a 
man  like  General  Gordon  to  the  Sudan,  there  can 
be  no  justification  for  not  promptly  sending  re- 
lief when  it  was  needed  and  well  known  to  the 
whole  world  that  it  was  needed. 

It  was  not  for  six  weeks  after  the  fall  of  Berber 
that  preparations  for  such  an  expedition  were 


104  Islam  Lands 

begun;  all  the  while  the  British  government 
knew  that  unless  such  an  expedition  was  sent, 
Khartoum  and  Gordon,  and  all  with  him,  would 
be  lost, — that  prompt  action  was  necessary,  as 
only  when  the  Nile  was  high, — a  very  short 
period, — could  rapid  movements  be  accomplished, 
but  while  precious  time  was  passing  the  gov- 
ernment talked  and  talked  and  waited  and 
waited  and  requested  *' further  information  by 
mail.'" 

Even  after  all  commimication  with  Khartoum 
had  been  cut  off  there  followed  four  or  five  months 
of  fatal  indecision,  and  **when  it  came  to  a  ques- 
tion of  action  the  government  appears  to  have 
rarely  done  the  right  thing  at  the  right  moment*' 
(Cromer).  There  is  scarcely  a  doubt  if  the  ex- 
pedition had  been  sent  in  April  or  May  instead  of 
August  the  end  would  have  been  attained.  The 
responsibility  rests  on  Mr.  Gladstone,  who 
stated  that  he  had  had  no  proof  that  Gordon  was 
in  danger,  a  statement  he  knew  to  be  untrue 
when  he  made  it.  As  Lord  Cromer  states,  "he 
did  not  desire  to  believe  a  fact  which  was  naturally 
most  distasteful  to  him."  Lord  Northbrook's 
note  to  Lord  Cromer  shows  that  at  least  all  that 
government  did  not  agree  with  Mr.  Gladstone: 
"I  am  afraid  that  all  you  have  written  is  quite 
true.  As  I  had  the  misfortune  to  be  a  mem- 
ber of  Mr.  Gladstone's  government,  I  have  to 
bear  the  blame  with  the  rest.  But  I  resolved 
never  to  serve  under  him  again. 


Napoleon  versus  Gladstone       105 

"Mr.  Gladstone's  error  of  judgment  in  delaying 
too  long  the  despatch  of  the  Nile  expedition  left 
a  stain  on  the  reputation  of  England  which  it 
will  be  beyond  the  power  of  either  the  impar- 
tial historian  or  the  partial  apologist  to  efface.  "^ 
It  is  not  surprising  that  the  House  of  Commons 
condemned  the  government,  which  only  escaped 
censure  by  a  majority  of  fourteen. 

Can  the  world  ever  forget  Gordon's  pitiful  cry 
in  November  of  that  year,  *'If  it  is  right  to  send 
an  expedition  now,  why  was  it  not  right  to  send 
it  before?  "  He  would  not  have  had  to  utter  that 
cry  had  Napoleon  the  Great  been  Prime  Minister 
of  England.  The  man  "who  moved  whilst  his 
enemies  were  thinking"  would  have  saved  the 
nation's  honour. 

As  I  stand  gazing  northward,  around  a  bend 
of  the  river  comes  what  Gordon  so  longed  for 
and  waited  for,  a  steamboat.  To-day  it  means 
nothing  of  importance, — what  wotild  it  not  have 
meant  to  that  man,  surrounded  by  the  black 
devils  of  this  awful  land? 

Well,  at  least,  the  failure  of  that  relief  has  made 
Gordon  immortal  on  this  earth.  Had  it  arrived 
and  saved  the  day,  the  enemies  of  his  adminis- 
tration would  have  torn  his  laurels  to  tatters, 
even  his  Chinese  record  would  not  have  saved 
him;  the  fact  that  he  had  advocated  placing 
the  slave  trader  Zobheir  Pasha  in  power  here  for 
a  time  would  have  been  for  ever  cast  in  his  teeth, 

»  Cromer's  Modern  Egypt. 


io6  Islam  Lands 

yet  all  who  know  anything  about  the  situation 
here  at  that  time  believe  that  it  would  have  been 
the  wisest  course. 

How  easy  it  is  to  sit  comfortably  at  home, 
thousands  of  miles  away,  and  insist  that  our 
method  of  governing  a  country  which  we  have 
never  seen  and  of  which  we  know  nothing  is  the 
best,  wisest,  and  only  course.  The  people  of 
certain  sections  of  our  land  so  insisted  towards 
the  South  after  the  Civil  War, — what  the  result 
was  to  the  South,  all  the  world  knows. 

Abraham  Lincoln  might  have  saved  all  that 
had  he  been  spared  to  us, — he  would  have  accom- 
plished more  than  any  other,  though  for  his  own 
sake  it  was  well  that  he  was  not  allowed  to  live,  as 
the  Angel  Gabriel  could  not  have  satisfied  the 
nation  dtuing  the  foiu:  years  following  his  death. 
God  spared  him  that, — ^he  had  done  enough  and 
deserved  his  immortality. 

Again,  we  started  in  to  do  the  same  thing  as 
regards  the  Philippines,  but  President  McKinley 
thwarted  that  by  sending  out  as  governor  the 
man  who,  with  his  farsightedness  he  was  confident 
would  one  day  fill  the  executive  chair  of  the  nation, 
as  he  is  doing,  and  with  a  knowledge  of  ovir  distant 
possession  which  enables  him  to  know  what  he  is 
about  and  to  realise  that  the  conditions  which 
prevail  in  one  section  of  the  world  are  unsuitable 
for  those  of  another.     But  to  return. 

As  we  leave  the  Palace  we  turn  for  a  glimpse 
of  Gordon's  garden.      It  is  a  mass  of  luxuriant 


The  Ruined  Palace  107 

foliage,  a  blaze  of  beautiful  flowers  to-day,  but 
when  Kitchener  came  here  it  had  almost  given 
up  the  struggle.  Neglected  through  all  those 
years,  it  still  protested  against  annihilation.  The 
orange  and  citron  struggled  to  bear  their  hard 
green  bitter  fruit — the  pomegranates  starred  the 
desolation  here  and  there  with  flame  colour.  The 
whole  was  a  rack  and  ruin  of  pale  sickly  green 
slowly  suffocating  in  the  desert  sands.  Only  that 
hateful  herald  of  desolation — the  poisonous  Sodom 
apple — appeared  to  thrive  and  rejoice  in  the  de- 
struction. The  Palace,  which  is  to-day  a  stately 
two-storied  structure,  had  been  reduced  to  a  form- 
less heap.  The  staircase  down  which  Gordon 
fought  his  way  had  long  since  vanished.  Here 
where,  after  church,  a  well  dressed  company  lin- 
gers under  the  spreading  branches  of  a  beautiful 
acacia  with  the  Blue  Nile  sparkling  at  their  feet, 
was  held  Gordon's  funeral  service.  Above  the 
spot  where  he  died  fluttered  again  the  Union 
Jack  and  Egyptian  flag,  while  the  troops  of  the 
two  nations  formed  a  rectangle  with  the  Sirdar 
in  the  centre.  The  national  anthems  were  over 
when  on  the  hot  still  air  fell  the  solemn  notes 
of  the  Dead  March  from  Saul,  and  forth  came 
four  chaplains.  Catholic,  Anglican,  Presbyterian, 
and  Methodist,  and  formed  themselves  before 
that  high  altar,  the  ruined  palace.  The  Presby- 
terian read  the  15th  psalm,  the  Anglican  mur- 
mured the  Lord's  Prayer,  while  "snow-haired 
Father  Brindle,  best  beloved  of  priests,  laid  his 


io8  Islam  Lands 

helmet  in  the  dust  and  read  a  memorial  prayer 
bare-headed  in  the  sun."  Were  there  any  dry 
eyes  there  as  the  black  pipers  wailed  out  Gordon's 
favourite  hymn,  *'The  darkness  deepens,  Lord 
with  me  abide"?  Therefore  we  commit  his  body 
to  the  earth — therefore  we  commit  his  soul  to 
God. 


CHAPTER  VII 

The  Trip  to  Gondokoro — Departure  from  Khartoum — 
English  Officers — The  Ride  to  Port  Sudan — A  Burial 
in  the  Red  Sea — The  Opium  Trade — Customs  of  the 
African  Tribes  —  Marriages — Suez^  and  the  Ride  to 
Cairo. 

WE  had  about  given  up  the  trip  to  Gondo- 
koro, but  to-night  Col.  Asser  convinced 
us  that  we  should  go.  Certainly  it  is  now  or 
never,  and  as  we  are  not  due  anywhere  at  any 
time,  it  seems  rather  a  shame  not  to  do  so.  The 
land  and  the  people,  the  wild  game  and  the  birds, 
will  fast  change  and  vanish  with  the  incoming 
of  our  dear  and  necessary  civilisation.  It  may 
be  stupid  coming  down  the  river,  but  it  cannot 
be  all  cakes  and  ale  in  this  life.  Personally  I 
have  always  had  pleasant  times  on  river  trips, 
and  the  journey  will  be  most  incomplete  if  I  do 
not  see  the  White  Nile  in  its  solemn  reaches 
towards  the  heart  of  darkest  Africa.  While  the 
tse-tse  fly  is  there,  he  is  not  as  yet  dangerous. 

We  crossed  the  river  this  morning  to  inspect 
the  boat,  and  find  her  absolutely  new,  a  tremen- 
dous card  in  her  favour  in  a  hot  land.  Built  for 
the  stm,  she  has  double  coverings  with  air  cham- 

109 


no  Islam  Lands 

bers  overhead;  the  cabins  are  commodious,  with 
stationary  washstands,  spring  beds,  and  electric 
lights ;  a  roomy  salon  forward,  and  pleasant  decks. 
On  top  of  all,  like  a  large  pilot-house  on  a  Mis- 
sissippi steamboat,  is  a  spacious  room  entirely  en- 
closed in  netting  where  one  may  sit  with  comfort, 
smiling  the  while  at  the  assaiilts  of  all  tropical 
insects.  I  think  we  shall  hold  off  a  while  before 
deciding,  and  in  the  end  go,  at  least  I  hope  so. 
The  following  morning  finds  me  in  bed  with  fever, 
so  we  do  not  go.  Let  me  utter  a  word  of  warn- 
ing,— ^never  go  out  in  the  tropics  without  your 
pith  helmet.  Yesterday  was  a  cool  grey  day  with 
a  chilly  wind  blowing  and  so  I  ventured  to  do  so, 
with  the  above  result.  For  the  Anglo-Saxon  the 
sun  here  never  loses  its  pernicious  effect.  I  re- 
joiced in  a  temporary  freedom  from  the  stiff 
helmet — but — behold  me  laid  out. 

A  party  retiuning  to-day  does  not  give  en- 
couraging reports  and  that,  added  to  my  seediness, 
settles  the  question.  The  trip  takes  twenty-eight 
days.^ 

It  is  with  regret  that  I  leave  Khartoum,  and 
we  all  feel  so.  On  the  whole,  it  is  a  delightful 
place,  at  least  it  was  so  for  us.  Yet  I  can  scarcely 
recommend  it  to  the  ordinary  totirists  who  might 

»  Weeks  later  I  met  a  man  in  Algiers  who  made  the 
trip.  He  reported  that  the  sail  was  a  stupid  and  most 
uncomfortable  one  and  that  little  wild  life  was  seen,  while  the 
mosquitoes  were  appalling.  The  entire  month  was  spent 
under  netting,  perforce. 


Strangers  in  Khartoum  iii 

know  no  one  here.  The  distance  to  be  traversed 
in  slowly  moving  trains  over  a  glaring  desert  is 
very  great.  Yet  how  rapid  and  luxurious  they 
would  have  appeared  to  one  following  on  foot 
over  the  blistering  sands,  and  through  the  torrid 
heat  of  day  and  almost  arctic  cold  of  night. 

The  sights  of  Khartoum,  save  to  those  interested 
in  its  history,  are  not  many,  and  could  all  be  seen 
in  short  order,  and  unless  you  brought  letters  to 
some  resident  you  would  have  a  lonely  time,  espe- 
cially if  the  history  of  the  place,  its  past,  present, 
and  future,  did  not  interest  you. 

We  were  fortunate  enough  to  have  several  good 
letters  and  so  met  lots  of  interesting  people, 
and  should  have  met  them  all  had  we  remained 
longer.  But  without  these,  while  you  might  ac- 
complish it  in  the  end,  it  would  be  difficult  to 
meet  the  English  residents. 

You  remember  the  poor  German  professor 
who  loved  his  home  and  his  repose  above  all  else, 
but  who  being  induced  to  enter  a  balloon  was 
blown  far  south  and  dropped,  in  the  heart  of  an 
African  desert,  squarely  on  the  back  of  an  ostrich. 
The  astonished  bird  ran  away  with  him  some  five 
hundred  miles  or  so  and  dumped  him  at  the  feet 
of  an  Englishman,  who  refused  to  speak  to  him 
because  they  had  never  been  introduced — so  you 
had  better  bring  letters. 

It  is  always  possible  for  a  gentleman  to  make 
his  way  with  the  English  officers.  They  are 
generally  charming  men,  most  kindly,  considerate, 


112  Islam  Lands 

and  cottrteous,  putting  themselves  out  for  you 
in  a  manner  Americans  never  think  of  doing. 
If  they  know  that  you  desire  to  meet  any  par- 
ticular person  they  will,  if  possible,  see  that  you 
do  so,  and  it  is  your  own  faiilt  if  you  do  not  have 
a  pleasant  time  amongst  them.  However,  one 
can  always  manage  to  bring  letters  and  they  clear 
one's  pathway  at  once. 

We  leave  the  pleasant  hotel  with  regret.  Our 
rooms,  amongst  the  waving  tops  of  the  acacias, 
have  been  like  the  "shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a 
weary  land."  Our  host  has  done  his  best,  even 
to  offering  me  the  use  of  his  gaily  caparisoned 
white  camel.  As  we  pass  out  the  camel  grimts 
his  adieux  and  a  little  gazelle  comes  up  for  a  last 
caress.  A  grey  donkey,  the  prima  donna  of  the 
"Khartoum  brass  band,"  which  must,  by  the 
nightly  racket,  number  thousands  in  its  ranks, 
*' hee-haws"  his  sorrow  at  parting,  but  it 's  sweet 
sorrow  to  us  so  far  as  he  is  concerned.  This  we 
do  not  tell  him,  and  he  prolongs  his  woe  until  it 
ends  in  gurgles  somewhere  in  his  "innards." 
The  bright-eyed  Httle  black  boy,  clothed  in  a  sweet 
smile,  shows  more  teeth  than  usual  as  we  pass 
him,  enthroned  on  the  wheel  of  his  sakiya  and 
driving  his  sacred  oxen,  for  here  you  find  the  sacred 
beast  of  India.  Then,  we  are  over  the  dusty  bank 
and  down  on  the  ferry,  prosaic  but  necessary 
ferry.  All  around  us  the  waters  are  gilded  with 
the  departing  sunlight,  afar  off  the  desert  stretches 
full  of  mysterious  possibilities,  below  the  glowing 


I  w 


Departure  from  Khartoum        113 

sky  twinkle  the  lights  of  Omdurman,  and  sharply 
silhouetted  against  the  light  amidst  the  delicate 
fronds  of  a  palm  grove  pass  some  stately  lateen 
sails  like  the  wings  of  great  birds. 

Khartoum,  with  its  villas  and  palace,  its  uni- 
versity and  grand  mosque,  pass  for  the  last  time 
in  stately  review,  and  we  turn  on  the  farther  bank 
for  a  final  glimpse  of  the  whole,  and  then,  memories 
and  all,  it  has  vanished  for  ever. 

There  is  the  usual  confusion  at  starting.  Cook's 
agent,  the  only  one  in  the  place,  has  made  the 
usual  errors  of  omission  and  commission.  A  few 
of  us  tell  each  other  what  we  think  of  each  other; 
were  we  Hindoos  or  Arabs  we  would  abuse  each 
other's  ancestry,  but  we  pause  there. 

However,  it  is  all  arranged  at  last,  and  silently 
the  long  white  train  glides  out  over  a  moonlit 
desert,  and  in  a  few  moments  is  in  solitudes, 
which  bear  the  appearance  of  knowing  nothing 
of  man  or  his  work — soHtudes  which  have  swal- 
lowed millions  of  us  and  will  swallow  millions  more 
and  give  no  sign.  Yonder  are  some  lonely  graves, 
marked  only  by  a  slight  mound  and  a  ring  of  white 
stones.  It  is  cool  in  the  carriages,  too  cool  to  need 
the  electric  fans,  and  we  are  shortly  settled  for  the 
night. 

Morning  finds  us  past  the  junction  of  Atbara 
and  well  on  towards  the  Red  Sea.  There  is  no 
vestige  of  vegetation  which  would  be  of  any  use 
to  man  or  beast;  the  desert  is  more  stony  and 
forbidding  in  appearance  than  usual,  for  it  always 


114  Islam  Lands 

seems  possible  that  with  water  something  might 
be  raised  out  of  sand,  but  out  of  these  black  rocks 
nothing  could  ever  come  save  reflected  heat. 
How  many  novelists  and  historians  have  referred 
to  the  wild  land  between  the  Nile  and  the  Red 
Sea — here  it  is — and  the  world  holds  no  region 
more  desolate. 

We  find  the  ride  to  Port  Sudan  much  more  com- 
fortable than  our  south-bound  journey.  There 
is  not  half  so  much  dust  and  the  northern  winds 
keep  the  heat  down,  rendering  the  electric  fans 
unnecessary.  Towards  noon  our  train  enters  the 
mountains  and  I  believe  attains  an  altitude  of 
three  thousand  feet,  though  there  is  apparently 
no  difference  in  the  temperature.  We  do  not 
approach  very  near  to  the  hills,  but  some  fan- 
tastic outlines  rise  up  around  us.  There  was 
water  here  once,  but  in  remote  antiquity,  as  a 
petrified  forest  proves — some  of  the  tree  trunks 
are  still  erect. 

Port  Sudan  is  reached  at  six-thirty  and  it  is  a 
great  pleasure  to  smell  the  sea  instead  of  the 
dust,  to  feel  the  cool,  damp  winds,  and  to 
board  a  spacious  ship  where  each  has  a  room 
and  to  spare.  It  is  well  to  watch  your  luggage 
even  in  a  short  transfer  such  as  this  from  train 
to  ship. 

Port  Sudan,  lying  thirty  miles  north  of  Suakin, 
has  been  made  the  terminus  of  the  railway  because 
of  the  superior  harbour.  It  is  too  dark  to  see  any- 
thing but  I  am  told  that  as  the  place  is  but  four 


Burial  at  Sea  115 

years  old  there  is  as  yet  nothing  save  a  few  ware- 
houses and  dwellings. 

Our  ship  gets  under  way  without  loss  of  time, 
and  I  am  soon  asleep,  rocked  by  the  murmuring 
waves.  Ships  in  this  part  of  the  world  haunt 
the  African  shore  as  assistance  would  be  obtainable 
there  in  case  of  trouble.  The  Arabian  shore  is 
infested  with  pirates  and  short  shrift  is  made  of 
a  ship  in  trouble  and  of  her  passengers  and  crew. 
Our  captain  was  once  on  a  steamship  which  ran 
on  the  rocks  securely,  jamming  her  bow  thereon. 
Time  was  life  and  property,  as  numberless  native 
craft  were  putting  off  from  the  Arabian  shore. 
What  that  meant  every  one  on  board  knew  only 
too  well.  So  an  order  was  given  to  drive  the 
ship  full  speed  ahead  and  full  astern  and  by  so 
working  her  they  literally  tore  off  the  bow  and 
left  it  there,  steaming  off  just  as  the  savages 
approached.  So  he  relates,  though  one  cannot 
be  censured  for  doubting  the  tale. 

While  the  S.  S.  Prince  Abbas  is  far  from  all 
which  we  desire  in  ships,  still  the  sail  up  the  Red 
Sea  is  cool  and  delightful  and  such  a  respite  after 
the  sands  and  heat  of  the  desert  that  we  forgive 
much. 

To-day  a  poor  Greek  died  in  the  second  class, 
and  was  buried  in  the  sea.  Securely  sewed  up 
in  heavy  canvas  and  heavily  weighted,  his  body 
will  probably  rest  unmolested  in  the  deep  water, 
which  here  reaches  three  thousand  feet,  and  in 
some  spots  six  thousand.     Being  a  Greek  and 


ii6  Islam  Lands 

with  no  priest  of  that  church  on  board,  there  was 
no  service  save  the  prayers  of  a  Roman  priest 
which  the  good  man  read  to  himself.  With  the 
British  flag  at  half-mast,  and  covered  by  the  flag 
of  his  own  land,  the  dead  flashed  out  of  sight  and, 
was  gone.  Poor  fellow;  but  it  is  perhaps  as  well 
so,  as  he  was  en  route  to  the  Greek  Hospital  at 
Alexandria  to  undergo  an  operation.  It  is  evi- 
dently a  charitable  institution  as  the  man  had 
but  two  pounds  in  cash  and  a  few  poor  clothes 
with  him. 

Personally  I  should  rather  be  buried  in  this 
sparkling  blue  water  than  under  the  burning  sands 
of  yonder  desert,  not  that  it  makes  any  difference, 
save  that  there  one's  grave  is  too  shallow  to 
protect  from  prowling  beasts,  while  here  the  deep 
waters  will  furnish  sure  sanctuary  for  what  they 
receive.  Still  it  seems  hard  to  toss  what  was  so 
lately  a  man  moving  about  amongst  us  over- 
board like  an  empty  sack. 

The  ships  on  the  long  Pacific  voyages  are  obliged 
to  carry  coffins  for  the  Chinese, — queer  shaped 
things  made  out  of  slabs  of  trees  spliced  together 
and  plugged  up  at  either  end.  There  is  always  one 
or  two  of  them  standing  around  on  the  lower  deck. 

During  one  of  my  recent  voyages  to  Japan  I 
had  noticed  a  very  jolly  old  Chinaman  who  always 
greeted  me  with  a  smile  each  morning  as  I  leaned 
on  the  rail  above  him.  He  seemed  the  life  and 
soul  of  the  whole  ship  down  there,  and  kept  up  a 
constant  chatter  when  not  playing  some  practical 


Chinese  Burials  117 

joke  on  his  fellows.  I  missed  him  for  a  day  or  two 
and  finally  asked  where  he  was,  whereupon  one 
of  a  group  playing  fan-tan  on  a  coffin  stopped  long 
enough  to  glance  at  me  while  he  rapped  the  coffin 
significantly,  and  then  resumed  his  game.  So, 
the  old  man  had  grown  weary  of  it  all  and  was 
inside  there,  chuckling,  I  have  no  doubt,  at  the 
good  rest  he  was  having. 

The  Chinese  are  obliged  to  deposit  some  sixty 
dollars  with  the  steamship  line  when  they  leave 
home.  This  is  used,  if  they  die,  for  the  coffin, 
the  barber  who  embalms  them,  and  the  doctor. 
Many  of  them  do  die,  and  they  say  that  coffins 
are  stacked  up  in  the  lower  hold  by  the  hundreds. 
These  Chinese  receptacles  for  the  dead,  whilst 
massive  and  strong  in  appearance,  are  not  made 
of  hard  wood  and  soon  fall  to  pieces,  as  all  who 
have  travelled  the  Bubbling  Well  road  at  Shanghai 
can  testify.  They  stand  on  the  surface  of  the  ground 
all  round  the  late  dwelling  of  their  occupants,  and 
are  dotted  all  over  the  landscape.  One's  experi- 
ence is  not  pleasant  as  the  carriage  rolls  along  or 
one's  pony  jimips  a  big  one  during  the  Paper 
Chase.  The  deep  waters  of  the  outer  ocean  are 
better  than  this.  The  poor  man  just  cast  overboard 
left  a  wife  down  in  the  Abyssinian  mountains. 
He  had  been  in  the  employment  of  the  Sudanese 
government,  from  which  I  suppose  she  will  receive 
some  support.  It  must  be  bitter  indeed  to  be  so 
poor  that  you  cannot  accompany  a  sick  one  on  an 
almost  surely  fatal  joiurney. 


ii8  Islam  Lands 

•-One  meets  with  many  intelligent  men  in  these 
farther  corners  of  the  world,  connected  gener- 
ally with  government  service,  either  as  soldiers 
or  in  the  civil  service,  and  all  have  had  great 
experience  in  the  wide  extent  of  the  British  Em- 
pire. The  inane  club  talk  of  the  greater  cities  holds 
no  place,  and  one  is  always  treated  to  something 
interesting. 

There  is  one  on  this  ship.  Major  Anderson, 
Inspector  of  the  Sudan.  He  goes  to  Khartoum 
every  year.  He  tells  me  that  they  hope  great 
things  from  the  rubber  and  gimi  trade  of  the 
Sudan,  especially  the  former,  and  as  the  ship 
glides  along  through  the  luminous  night,  finding 
that  I  am  interested,  talks  on  and  on  tmtil  mid- 
night calls  a  halt. 

The  apparently  sleepy  condition  of  some  native 
passengers  on  the  lower  deck  brings  out  the  in- 
formation that  the  unlawful  importation  of  hashish 
in  Egypt  and  all  this  land  has  become  so  profitable 
that  it  is  carried  on,  generally  by  the  Greeks, 
to  an  enormous  extent.  The  government  does 
all  it  can  to  suppress  it  and  maintains  a  coast 
guard  on  camels  all  around  the  land,  still  it  goes 
on,  and  not  long  since  a  Greek  merchant  wagered 
with  one  of  the  officers  that  he  would  successfully 
pass  in  a  valuable  shipment.  The  wager  was 
accepted  and, — the  government  won.  Where- 
upon, the  Greek,  from  some  point  on  the  Red 
Sea,  telegraphed  "Congratulations,"  and  re- 
ceived answer  "Regrets." 


I. 


From  a  photograph  by  Miss  Helen  Parmelee 

A  Muezzin  at  Karawan 


Smuggling  Opium  119 

All  sorts  of  devices  are  resorted  to;  amongst 
them  false  nuts  are  made  and  filled  with  the  drug, 
and  the  inoffensive  donkey  quietly  trots  past 
the  guard  with  his  valuable  cargo, — so  runs  the 
world  away. 

Far  in  the  dark  Sudan  back  of  those  sombre 
mountains  yonder  is  a  tribe  called  the  Sobats, 
who,  when  approached  by  the  missionaries,  took 
no  interest  in  their  teachings,  saying  that  they  had 
a  better  religion  of  their  own  and  needed  no 
change, — that  hundreds  of  years  ago,  a  man  came 
to  them,  a  fair-faced,  blue-eyed,  fair-haired  man, 
who  taught  them  for  years  in  all  just  things  and 
good  ways,  and  that  finally  a  day  arrived  when  he 
simimoned  them  together  and  told  them  that  the 
time  had  come  to  leave  them, but  that  all  the  years 
to  follow,  if  they  would  go  through  certain  forms 
and  ceremonies  and  call  on  him,  he  would  always 
be  there  in  spirit  to  guide  them  as  they  should  go ; 
that  if  they  held  together  and  had  one  king,  only, 
of  the  royal  blood,  and  followed  his  teachings,  they 
would  prosper,  but  if  they  became  divided,  they 
would  fall.  Then  entering  his  canoe,  he  vanished 
like  Hiawatha,  ''To  the  region  of  the  sunset, 
to  the  land  of  the  hereafter,"  and  they  lived 
on  and  on  in  the  place  to  which  he  had  brought 
them  and  are  prosperous  to  this  day.  When  the 
Catholic  missionaries  arrived  they  told  the  tribe 
that  the  man  was  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  who  passing 
onward  had  given  his  life  for  all  mankind,  "the 
end  justifying  the  means"  of  that  tale.     These 


120  Islam  Lands 

people  still  live  together  and  are  prosperous. 
They  are  strictly  moral.  A  sinftil  daughter  is 
slain  by  her  father's  hand  and  a  man  who  sins 
is  sold  in  slavery  to  the  family  he  has  injured. 

It  would  appear  that  the  middleman  has  his 
place  here  in  all  transactions.  If  it  is  a  contract 
of  marriage  the  bridegroom  comes  to  the  family 
home  of  his  adored,  bringing  his  father  and  all 
his  kin  with  him.  There  are  already  assembled 
the  bride  and  her  relations,  and  there,  between 
the  two  factions,  sits  the  middleman.  The 
mother  opens  the  game  by  a  long  laudation  of 
her  daughter's  ancestors  to  the  remotest  ages, 
and  these  families  sometimes  possess  ancestral 
trees  that  make  those  of  Europe  mere  child's 
play.  Having  made  the  glory  of  the  dead  evident 
to  all  present,  she  turns  to  her  daughter,  shows 
her  good  points,  tells  of  her  calm  and  loving 
disposition,  also  that  she  thoroughly  understands 
all  about  the  house  and  its  management  and  the 
care  of  the  fields  and  the  camels,  cows  and  donkeys. 
Says  that  for  generations  the  highest  in  the  land 
have  striven  for  alliance  with  her  family  and  that 
this  present  offer  is  only  considered  because  times 
are  degenerate  and  there  are  no  great  men  left 
in  the  land.  At  this  the  groom's  father  rises, 
and  equals  for  his  son  her  statements  as  to  her 
daughter.  He  is  descended  from  a  long  line  of 
warriors  and  could,  if  a  proper  bride  were  secured, 
as  has  not  been  in  this  case,  be  the  father  of  another 
long  line  of  equally  brave  warriors. 


Marriage  Bargaining  121 

Then  a  pause  occurs,  during  which  the  looker- 
on  is  impressed  with  the  belief  that  no  wedding 
can  possibly  take  place,  and  if  it  does,  after  all 
those  personal  remarks,  the  future  cannot  hold 
much  chance  for  peace  and  happiness,  for  surely 
no  European  parent  would  ever  forget  what  had 
been  flung  at  them  and  theirs. 

However,  here  comes  in  the  middleman  and 
after  much  work  succeeds  in  throwing  a  certain 
amount  of  oil  upon  the  troubled  waters.  Then 
in  the  sweetest  and  most  insinuating  voice  he 
asks  what  the  bride's  mother  expects  to  receive 
for  her  peerless  pearl  of  great  price,  and  apparently 
it  is  a  great  price  which  is  demanded.  It  is 
generally  for  so  many  camels,  cows,  and  donkeys, 
to  be  handed  over  to  the  bride's  family.  The 
number  demanded  is  so  great  that  the  groom's 
father,  rising  with  great  dignity  and  wrapping 
his  burnous  about  him,  summons  his  son  and  his 
tribe  to  go  forth  and  away. 

But  here  again  comes  in  the  middleman  and 
in  the  end  an  understanding  is  arrived  at.  You 
who  have  purchased  anything,  be  it  ever  so  small, 
in  the  Orient  will  understand,  for  you  have  gone 
through  the  entire  process,  only  then,  you  walked 
off  with  your  purchase,  but,  in  the  Sudan,  the 
bridegroom  is  still  far  from  his  bride,  the  mother 
stating  that,  now  the  financial  part  being  duly 
arranged,  though  personally  she  considers  that  her 
daughter  has  been  given  away  in  every  sense  of  that 
word,  but  since  't  is  done,  't  is  done,  her  daughter. 


122  Islam  Lands 

while  willing  to  be  entirely  at  the  disposal  of  the 
husband  for  four  days  and  nights,  must  be  al- 
lowed perfect  liberty  for  the  other  three,  to  keep 
company  with  any  other  man  she  desires,  and  in 
every  way  the  husband  having  absolutely  no 
claim  upon  her  during  that  period.  That  this  is 
objected  to,  on  the  groom's  part,  goes  without 
saying,  but  while  he  finally  gets  this  clause  cut 
down  somewhat,  he  does  not  do  so  altogether 
and  his  bride  to  be  is  assured  that  from,  let  us 
say,  Friday  evening  to  Sunday  morning-she  is  to 
be  her  own  mistress  absolutely.  One  condition 
only  is  imposed,  viz.,  that  if  she  takes  up  with 
another  man,  he  must  be  of  the  tribe,  in  order 
that  the  blood  be  not  polluted. 

All  this  settled,  there  is  prolonged  feasting, 
and  finally  the  happy  couple  depart  for  the  home 
made  ready.  For  his  part  of  the  week  the  groom 
is,  let  us  hope,  supremely  happy,  but  as  Fri- 
day approaches,  he  naturally  becomes  somewhat 
restive,  unreasonable,  I  acknowledge,  but  most 
of  us  would  feel  likewise.  However,  he  has  not 
lost  out  as  yet,  and  begins  by  beseeching  his  bride 
to  remain  true  to  him  and  him  alone.  She  does 
not  give  in  without  long  struggles,  and  only 
then  on  bribes.  *'Fatima  has  a  beautiful  brace- 
let, I  must  have  the  like,"  and  so  it  goes  on,  and 
her  husband  has  to  promise  or  she  certainly 
would  go  forth,  nor  does  she  accede  to  his  wishes 
until  she  has  the  bauble  in  her  hand.  This 
goes  on  every  week,    and  until  age  has  rend- 


Life  in  Borneo  123 

ered  her  threats  of  no  weight.  Then  comes  his 
day. 

I  could  scarcely  recommend  the  adoption  of 
this  custom  amidst  the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  but 
after  all,  in  certain  circles,  is  the  difference  very 
great? 

As  we  move  to  retire  a  young  man  from  the 
East  advises  me  to  go  to  Borneo  to  live,  says  it  is 
a  charming  spot,  that  he  killed  a  cobra  seven  feet 
long  in  his  bedroom  the  day  before  he  left  home. 
There  is  also  another  interesting  snake  which 
spreads  its  skin  in  a  semblance  of  wings  and  sails 
down  upon  one  from  the  tree-tops.  Poisonous? 
Oh,  yes,  of  course. 

What  a  night!  What  a  pity  to  lose  any  of  it 
in  sleep!  The  level  sea  is  illuminated  with  fields 
of  phosphorescence,  while  above,  the  heavens 
are  close  down  upon  us  and  the  stars  wonderfully 
brilliant. 

At  some  period  in  the  unknown  past  the  sleep- 
ing earth  has  awakened  and  yawned  heavily  just 
here,  yawned  deep  and  long,  twelve  hundred 
miles  long  and  a  thousand  fathoms  deep.  Perhaps 
in  some  uneasy  moment  she  may  shut  up  this 
huge  mouth  of  hers  and  unite  once  more  the 
continents  of  Asia  and  Africa. 

I  shall  always  think  of  the  man  we  have  just 
sent  overboard  as  walking  around  way  down 
there  in  the  darkness,  upright  because  of  the  irons 
bound  to  his  feet,  yet,  because  of  the  density  of 
the  water,  unable  ever  to  reach  the  bottom  and 


124       .  Islam  Lands 

be  at  rest.  Hence  he  must,  until  his  final  disin- 
tegration, go  solemnly  bobbing  around  unless 
the  waters  mash  him  flat,  which  they  probably 
will  do. 

Early  morning  brings  us  to  Suez,  where,  no 
matter  how  small  the  ship  or  how  few  the  passen- 
gers, there  is  always  an  enormous  amount  of 
noise  and  confusion.  To-day  is  no  exception 
and  our  tempers  are  not  improved  when  we  find 
we  have  been  delayed,  almost  to  the  point  of 
missing  the  Cairo  train,  by  an  Englishman  who 
declined  to  get  up  ahead  of  his  usual  hour  and 
allow  the  medical  inspector  to  do  his  work. 
Fortunately  for  him  we  were  not  told  the  cause 
of  the  delay  until  it  was  past  and  attributed  it 
to  Egyptian  slowness,  whereas  it  was  far  otherwise. 
We  just  made  the  train,  though  we  had  been  in 
port  four  hours  and  the  train  was  next  the  ship. 
But  I  anticipate. 

Through  the  centre  of  Suez  flows  the  broad 
canal,  on  either  hand  stretch  away  the  yellow 
sands  of  the  desert  to  their  meeting  with  the 
sky,  while  the  town  seems  to  cling  wildly  to  the 
canal  as  though  afraid  of  being  lost  in  the  limit- 
less expanse  of  sand.  Overhead  vast  flocks  of 
flamingoes  and  pelicans  fairly  darken  the  sun, 
while  below  the  people  darken  the  earth.  It 
seems  verily  the  hub  of  the  universe,  and  looking 
around  one  would  judge  that  at  present  all  the 
people  of  the  world  are  striving  to  reach  it.  The 
sea  is  thickly  dotted  with    craft  of   every   de- 


Suez  125 

scription,  while  away,  over  the  low-lying  land, 
long  trains  of  camels  slowly  wend  their  way,  all 
bound  for  this  one  point. 

As  you  enter  the  harbour  the  entire  population 
comes  out  to  meet  you,  while  those  who  cannot 
find  space  in  the  water,  crowd  the  adjacent  banks. 
Americans  and  English,  Chinese  and  Australians, 
the  turbaned  Indian,  the  dusky  Moor,  and  wild- 
looking  Bedouin  crowd  closely  around  you.  On 
the  top  of  that  bank  a  stately  sheik  of  the  desert 
(one  notes  from  his  green  turban  that  he  is  a 
descendant  of  the  prophet)  has  spread  his  prayer- 
rug  and,  with  his  face  toward  Mecca,  and  his 
thoughts  on  Paradise,  is  going  through  his  devo- 
tions,— oblivious  of  all  around, — while  just  beyond 
an  irate  "clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England" 
is,  with  a  green  umbrella,  soundly  beating  a 
donkey-boy  over  the  head,  probably  the  demands 
for  ''backsheesh"  having  exhausted  even  his 
patience.  As  we  leave  the  ship,  we  find  that  an 
American  has  interrupted  the  devotions  of  the 
sheik  by  trying  to  buy  his  prayer-rug;  evidently 
the  price  is  not  sufficient  as  yet,  for  the  old  man, 
standing  with  arms  extended  toward  Mecca  and 
with  eyes  on  the  Yankee,  is  in  grave  deliberation 
as  to  whether  he  had  best  serve  "God  or  Mam- 
mon." Mr.  America  says  nothing,  but  waits, 
just  allowing  the  silver  to  gleam  for  an  instant 
as  he  slowly  slips  it  back  into  his  pocket.  That 
settles  it,  and  when  I  see  the  sheik  later  what  he 
has  to  offer  to  his  God  is  offered  on  the  bare  sand. 


126  Islam  Lands 

However,  the  "groves  were  God*s  first  temples," 
and  prayer-rugs  merely  an  invention  of  later 
times. 

Mohammed  AH  superintended  the  getting  of 
our  trunks  aboard  the  train.  His  arms  flew 
around  like  a  windmill  in  a  tempest,  his  black 
face  flashed  with  rage  as  he  beat  those  bearers 
over  the  intervening  fifty  feet  between  ship  and 
train.  He  shoved  me  into  a  compartment  and 
shut  the  door  on  me,  and  the  last  I  saw  he  was 
the  centre  of  a  riot  concerning  the  division  of 
spoils. 

In  Europe  all  that  would  have  attracted  a 
crowd,  but  not  so  here.  The  stolid  Orientals 
paid  no  sort  of  attention.  Naturally,  perhaps, 
as  it  goes  on  with  the  arrival  of  every  ship  and 
train,  but  one  wonders  what  the  condition  of 
things  must  be  when  a  great  liner  touches  here. 
I  should  certainly  say  that  apoplexy  must  result 
to  Mohammed  AH,  but  the  train  has  gHded  on 
over  the  level  land. 

It  is  yet  early  as  it  steams  off,  up  by  the  canal, 
which,  three  hundred  feet  broad,  stretches  away 
before  us  like  a  pale  green  ribbon  on  a  field  of 
gold,  its  waters  crowded  with  gay  coloured  ship- 
ping, its  banks  dotted  with  people,  generally 
clothed  in  blue  with  crimson  or  white  turbans 
(that  being  the  usual  dress  of  the  Fellahin),  here 
and  there  a  signal  station  with  its  many-coloured 
flags,  while  above  flocks  of  crimson  flamingoes 
and  snow-white  pelicans  float  majestically  across 


Approaching  Cairo  127 

a  sky  so  deeply,  darkly,  beautifully  blue  that 
those  of  Sicily  pale  by  comparison.  The  picture 
is  most  brilliant  and  one  never  to  be  forgotten. 

Later  in  the  day  we  are  favoured  with  a  perfect 
"mirage."  Vast  flocks  of  brilliant  birds  pass 
and  repass  in  the  distance,  but  all  upside  down; 
a  sudden  change  in  the  atmosphere,  and  they 
vanish. 

At  Ismailia  the  train  leaves  the  canal  and  turns 
toward  Cairo.  Miles  of  the  desert  are  passed, 
Tel-el- Kebir,  with  its  record  of  blood,  is  left 
behind  you,  and  ere  long  the  setting  sun  lights  up 
the  waves  of  the  desert,  touches  with  gold  the 
Mokatam  hills,  the  minarets  of  the  mosque  of 
Mohammed  AH,  and  the  summits  of  the  great 
pyramids.  Then  you  know  you  are  once  more 
near  Cairo,  the  City  of  the  Caliphs.  Soon  the 
houses  and  streets  close  in  around  you  but  the 
noise  and  scrimmage  of  the  Orient  is  now  alto- 
gether lacking.  In  the  spacious  station  you 
might  fancy  yourself  in  Europe.  Outside,  liv- 
eried porters  and  hotel  motor  busses  keep  up  the 
delusion. 

The  houses  hereabouts  are  all  European  in 
architecture,  but  they  have  not  destroyed  Shep- 
heapd  's  Hotel  with  its  famous  terrace.  Crossing 
the  latter  we  are  shortly  comfortably  ensconced  in 
the  former  and  rest  for  a  night.  Longer  is  not 
permitted  in  Cairo. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  Streets  of  Cairo — The  Citadel  and  Panorama — Shep- 
heard's  Hotel  and  Changes  in  Life  there — No  Intercourse 
with  Egyptians — Cairo  in  1873 — A  Ball  at  the  Gezira 
Palace — The  Old  Nile  Life — Slavery — Cairo  in  1909 — 
Life  in  her  Streets — Social  Life. 

IN  these  degenerate  days  one  may  not  depart 
from  Shepheard's  on  a  donkey — that  would 
be  bad  form — ^but  farther  along  in  the  square  of 
Mohammed  Ali  fashion  is  not  yet  supreme. 

There  the  candidates  for  our  favour  stand  in 
rows,  calmly  regarding  us  with  great  black  eyes 
and  ever  and  anon  pointing  their  ears  forward 
the  more  certainly  to  catch  what  is  being  said 
about  them.  Not  that  it  is  said  in  a  whisper, 
I  would  have  you  know,  but  amidst  such  a  babel 
of  voices  that  in  our  land  would  cause  a  descent 
of  the  police.  The  different  merits  of  each  are 
enlarged  upon  at  great  length.  We  are  assured 
that  "Adelaide  Ristori"  possesses  heels  that  will 
soon  leave  "Martin  Luther"  far  behind,  while 
the  virtues  of  "Lucrezia  Borgia"  would  make 
"Osiris'*  blush  with  envy.  That  white  one  is 
"Moses  in  the  Bulrushes,"  which  being  translated 

means  "Sarah  Bernhardt."     I  ask  for   my   old 

128 


The  Grand  Mosque  129 

donkey,  "Helema, "  who,  alas,  has  been  in  his 
grave  these  many  years;  but  I  am  answered  that 
his  great-grand^o/z,  ''Madame  Recamier, "  pos- 
sesses all  the  merits  of  his  distinguished  ancestor. 
He  is  therefore  selected,  and  in  company  with 
''Lucrezia  Borgia,"  and  *' Osiris,"  carries  us 
swiftly  past  the  Esbekiya  Gardens,  through  the 
shadowy  **Mousky,"  where  stray  sunbeams  light 
up  gorgeous  colotirs  and  the  balmy  air  is  laden 
with  attar  of  roses.  Now  a  long  string  of  camels 
just  in  from  Arabia,  now  a  whole  harem  mounted 
on  donkeys  and  guarded  by  a  repulsive-looking 
eunuch,  pass  us  by ;  and  now  a  funeral  procession, 
with  its  strange  screech-owl  cry  of  mourning. 

Through  a  shadowy  doorway  comes  the  swish, 
swish,  of  swiftly  moving  garments,  and  the  un- 
certain light  shows  us  the  ghostly  figures  of  the 
dancing  dervishes  fluttering  round  and  round 
like  great  white  moths. 

As  we  leave  the  streets  and  mount  to  the  citadel, 
the  Khedive,  a  pleasant-faced  man  of  middle  life, 
dressed  in  black  and  wearing  the  "fez,"  passes 
us  in  an  open  landau,  preceded  by  two  running 
footmen  dressed  in  flowing  white  garments,  with 
velvet  jackets  embroidered  in  gold,  and  carrying 
long  wands  in  their  hands.  Softly  on  the  evening 
air  come  the  slow,  solemn  notes  of  an  English 
funeral  march,  and  we  stand  reverently,  with  heads 
uncovered,  as  they  bear  past  us  all  that  is  left 
of  some  poor  soldier  boy.  who  will  never  see  Merry 
England  any  more.     No  grave  under  the  haw- 


130  Islam  Lands 

thorn  hedges — only  a  shallow  pit  in  these  horrible 
shifting  sands  that  have  swallowed  so  many- 
thousands  of  us.  *'0h,  the  weariness  of  it  all!** 
Upward  and  upward  we  mount,  until  from  the 
platform  before  the  alabaster  mosque  of  Moham- 
med Ali  we  gaze  upon  a  panorama  unrivalled  in  all 
the  world.  Behind  us  rise  the  minarets  of  that 
beautiful  mosque,  crowned  with  the  glittering 
crescent.  To  the  left  is  the  window  through 
which  the  last  of  the  Mamelukes  jumped  his 
horse  to  escape  Mohammed  Ali  and  certain  death. 
There  at  our  feet  spreads  the  fantastic  Oriental 
city.  Off  to  the  right  the  tombs  of  the  caliphs 
lift  their  dainty  domes,  while  farther  on  the 
obelisk  of  Heliopolis  (the  *'0n"  of  the  Bible, 
where  Moses  dwelt)  pierces  the  sky.  In  front 
and  on  either  hand,  bearing  on  its  bosom  the  island 
of  Rhoda,  where  that  prophet  was  found,  stretches 
the  sacred  Nile,  whose  green  valley  rises  until 
it  meets  at  the  foot  of  "Cheops"  the  sands  of  the 
desert,  stretching  westward,  wave  on  wave,  like 
a  frozen  ocean,  into  whose  depths  the  blazing 
sun  is  slowly  sinking.  Away  to  the  southward 
from  "Cheops, "  through  Memphis  to  the  "False,'* 
stretch  the  pyramids,  those  strange  sentinels, 
guarding  the  dead  in  their  keeping — guarding 
also  the  abodes  of  the  living  against  the  ever- 
encroaching  sands  of  the  great  Sahara.  Lower 
and  lower  sinks  the  sun,  fainter  and  fainter  grows 
the  daylight,  while  the  sound  of  the  muezzin's 
"Al-la-hu  Ak-ba-,   Al-la-hu  Ak-bar,"   falls  like 


Panorama  of  the  Nile  131 

a  benediction.  All  the  world  is  wrapped  in  pro- 
found repose — buried  under  the  intense  silence 
so  peculiar  to  Egypt.  Suddenly  the  west  com- 
mences to  glimmer  with  a  faint  rosy  glow,  which, 
ever  increasing  and  deepening,  soon  covers  the 
heavens  with  a  mantle  of  crimson,  against  which 
the  pyramids  and  palms  are  sharply  silhouetted; 
desert  and  Nile  seem  turned  to  blood  and  all 
Cairo  aflame.  It  is  the  afterglow,  and  fades  slowly. 
Then  from  the  wings  of  night  darkness  drops 
like  a  pall. 

"How  sad  were  the  sunset, 
Were  we  not  sure  of  the  morrow." 

Shepheard's  is  gay  with  light  and  music  when 
we  return.  There  is  a  ball  on  and  it  will  stay  on 
all  night. 

Those  who  would  be  exclusive  and  draw  their 
garments  closely  around  them  for  fear  of  contact 
with  the  world  at  large  will  go  to  the  Savoy. 
There  yoti  will  live  the  life  of  London,  eat  the 
same  stupid  formal  dinners,  and  see  none  save 
your  own  sort, — but  I  do  not  travel  for  that. 
The  world,  especially  the  Orient,  is  a  vaudeville 
where  the  traveller  should  be  in  the  heart  of 
things.  Shepheard's  has  always  been  the  heart 
of  Cairo  and  always  will  be.  It  is  called  ''No- 
toriety" and  I  should  be  very  careful  if  I  had 
ladies  with  me  as  to  whom  they  met  there. 

One  great  change  strikes  me,  and  one  that  does 
not  seem  wise  or  for  the  better.     When  here  as 


132  Islam  Lands 

a  boy  in  1873  during  the  days  of  Ismail  Pasha  I 
met  the  men  of  the  Egyptian  nation,  met  them 
socially.  I  remember  many  long  and  pleasant 
talks  with  many  of  them.  Now  they  are  abso- 
lutely taboo  not  only  by  women  but  by  men. 
An  English  or  American  girl  would  not  think  of 
having  anything  to  do  with  any  of  them.  She 
would  not  dare  because  of  instant  and  unfavour- 
able criticism. 

Yesterday  Miss  P came  out  on   to    the 

terrace  and  found  a  friend  who  had  lived  here  for 
years  talking  to  an  Egyptian.     After  the  latter 

had  left,  Mr.  B said  to  her,  **That  was  a 

man  high  in  government  circles,  a  most  inter- 
esting and  intelligent  person, — ^you  would  have 
enjoyed  meeting  him,  but  of  course  it  was  im- 
possible."    Why? 

It  would  appear  that  save  officially  the  Egyp- 
tians are  as  completely  ostracised  as  the  Evirasians 
in  India,  even  we  men  here  at  the  hotel  have 
nothing  to  do  with  them.  I  could  not  discover 
that  there  was  any  other  reason  for  this  save  that 
which  holds  with  the  Eurasians,  viz.,  **they  are 
touched  with  the  tar  brush,"  that  is,  not  all 
Caucasian.  Why  then  does  not  the  same  hold 
with  the  Japanese? 

I  remember  some  years  ago  the  amazement  and 
almost  indignation  of  an  English  clergyman  when 
I  told  him  that  our  blacks  were  not  and  never 
could  be  received  socially.  He  was  even  sur- 
prised that  there  was  not  intermarriage,  though 


Position  of  the  Natives  133 

vehemently  condemning  such  a  thought  for  an 
Enghshman.  The  fact  that  our  blacks  had  always 
been  slaves  and  servants  did  not  seem  to  be  an 
objection  to  him,  that  is,  so  far  as  we  were  con- 
cerned. However,  his  was  an  ignorant  exception 
and  must  be  very  far  from  the  general  opinion 
in  England. 

Here  with  the  Egyptians,  while  I  am  as  op- 
posed as  any  one  could  be  to  intermarriage  or 
very  close  association,  I  cannot  but  wonder 
whether  it  is  wise  to  impress  upon  them  that  they 
are  looked  down  upon  with  contempt.  ''They 
are  niggers,"  and  that  seems  to  settle  it,  but 
again,  is  it  wise,  is  it  politic? 

Be  you  man  or  woman,  if  you  associate  with 
any  of  the  Turks  or  Egyptians  in  Cairo,  you  will 
find  you  are  ostracised  and  can  never  regain  your 
place  with  the  whites.  We  attended  a  ball  at 
the  Gezira  pavilion  for  charity  which  was  hon- 
oured by  the  presence  of  the  Dtike  and  Duchess 
of  Connaught,  and  it  seemed  strange  that  there 
was  not  an  Egyptian  official  present.  At  first 
it  struck  one  as  a  mark  of  discourtesy  towards 
the  Duke,  but  they  were  doubtless  not  expected 
and  would  scarcely  have  been  admitted  had  they 
come.  Yet,  this  is  not  a  conquered  race  and  these 
people  have  never  been  slaves  nor  are  they  half- 
breeds.  Certainly  conditions  are  far  different 
from  what  they  were  in  1873  and  one  is  forced  to 
ask,  Is  it  necessary  or  politic? 
.    From  one  standpoint  it  may  be.     If  it  prevents 


134  Islam  Lands 

the  production  of  a  race  like  the  Eurasians  of 
India,  it  will  be  a  blessing.  The  traveller  in 
that  land  is  struck  with  pity  and  abhorrence  of 
those  poor  people.  They  are  the  most  unwhole- 
some, disagreeable  lot  I  have  ever  encoimtered 
and  seem  aware  that  every  man's  hand  is  against 
them,  that  they  are  despised  by  every  one,  yet 
it  is  not  their  fault  and  one  cannot  but  feel  sorry 
for  them.  Though  occupying  a  like  position 
with  the  mulattoes  in  America,  the  latter  are  far 
healthier  in  appearance,  the  Eurasians  of  India 
being  the  most  unhealthy  looking  I  have  ever 
encountered. 

How  different  that  ball  from  the  one  I  attended 
in  1873.  The  one  time  palace  is  now  a  hotel 
which  people  call  "Impropriety."  We  did  not 
go  near  it,  but  passed  along  to  the  pavilion  which 
was  quit-e  large  enough  for  the  function  and  which 
proved  to  be  merely  an  English  dance,  exactly 
like  hundreds  of  other  dances  and  with  no  more 
interest  attached.  Pleasant,  doubtless,  for  those 
who  live  here,  but  of  no  interest  to  a  traveller, 
especially  one  who  remembers  the  splendors  of 
that  old  ball. 

The  country  is  infinitely  better  off  than  ever 
before,  but  a  looker-on  cannot  but  regret  the 
gorgeous  days  of  Ismail  the  spender.,  I  remember 
we  had  been  out  most  of  the  day  on  a  joyous 
donkey  ride  and  were  returning  to  the  city  via 
the  "Shubra"  Road,  which  then  was-  the  fashion- 
able  drive, — now   deserted  for   that   across    the 


Cairo  under  Ismail  135 

Nile  near  the  race-course.  However,  this  Shubra 
Road  is  associated  in  my  mind  with  one  of  the 
most  gorgeous  scenes  of  those  gorgeous  times — 
scenes  and  times  which  ruined  Egypt  and  drove 
Ismail  Pasha  for  ever  from  the  land.  We  were 
returning  from  the  race-course,  where  all  day  long 
we  (with  thousands  of  others,  "guests  of  the 
Khedive,"  all  of  us)  had  been  served  with  wines 
and  dainties  worthy  of  Paris.  When  I  tell  you 
that  there  were  some  fifteen  thousand  "guests" 
present,  you  can  imagine  how  that  one  feast  must 
have  cost  his  royal  highness,  or  rather  the  poor 
of  Egypt  from  whom  he  ground  it  all. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  and  we  were  in 
haste  to  return  to  dinner,  and  later  the  great 
ball  in  the  Palace  of  the  Gezira,  given,  as  were  all 
those  fetes,  in  honour  of  the  marriage  of  the  Prince 
Heritier  and  three  of  the  royal  princesses.  Shubra 
Road  was  crowded,  so  much  so  that  any  advance 
was  impossible ;  the  people  were  evidently  waiting 
for  something,  which  we  soon  discovered  to  be 
the  public  display  of  the  wedding  presents.  Long 
lines  of  camels,  donkeys,  and  beautiful  Arabian 
horses  approached  bearing  velvet  and  satin 
cushions  upon  which  gleamed  diamonds,  rubies, 
emeralds,  and  every  other  precious  stone  known 
to  man  made  into  every  sort  of  ornament;  shawls 
from  Kashmir,  carpets  from  Persia  and  India, 
presents  of  gold  and  silver  from  every  monarch 
of  Europe,  until  the  animals  bearing  them  were 
almost   hidden   thereunder.     There   was   enough 


136  Islam  Lands 

useless  wealth  to  put  bread  in  the  mouths  of  all 
those  starving,  for  they  were  starving,  people 
that  looked  on  with  sullen  faces,  biding  their 
time.  I  watched  it  all  until  the  slanting  shad- 
ows warned  me  that  I  had  better  be  off  and  attend 
to  that  dress  coat  which  I  had  discovered  in  the 
**Mousky, "  and  meant,  if  it  could  be  made  to 
do,  to  wear  at  the  royal  ball  that  night.  What 
a  coat?  My  own,  which  was  my  first  and  there- 
fore too  valuable  to  be  "packed  all  over  Ein-ope,  '* 
had  been  left  in  London.  I  had  not  imagined 
there  could  be  use  for  it  in  barbarous  Egypt. 
However,  I  meant  to  go  to  that  ball,  and  I  knew 
that  a  pair  of  dark  brown  trousers  with  a  white 
stripe  would  pass  muster  in  so  vast  a  throng,  but 
that  I  could  not  make  a  brown  "frock"  pass  for 
a  black  dress  coat,  and  therefore  I  had  scraped 
this  thing  up  in  a  Jew  shop  in  the  Mousky.  I 
was  tall  while  it  was  made  for  a  shorter  man,  and 
when  "ready"  was  truly  a  work  of  art.  Not  a 
button  was  where  it  ought  to  have  been,  and  the 
patches  of  dark  blue  and  rusty  black  used  in  its 
reconstruction  cast  the  famous  coat  of  Joseph 
completely  into  the  shade,  and,  when  combined 
with  the  brown  and  white  trousers,  formed  a 
picture  which  daunted — for  a  time  only — even  the 
spirits  of  a  boy  of  eighteen,  especially  when  the 
rest  of  our  party  kindly  suggested  that  with  a 
few  stripes  and  a  star  or  so  I  could  pass  for 
"Brother  Jonathan."  We  were  three  hours  that 
night  making  the  short  distance  from  Shepheard's 


A  Royal  Ball  137 

Hotel  to  the  Palace  of  the  Gezira,  so  enormous 
were  the  crowds.  Every  few  feet  of  the  way- 
was  Hghted  by  lanterns  held  aloft  by  slaves,  who 
amused  themselves  now  and  then  by  eating  the 
candles,  hence  the  long  gaps  of  darkness.  The 
illuminations  were  truly  Oriental  in  their  splen- 
dour, and  formed  a  vast  pathway  of  ever-changing 
light  from  the  city  over  the  great  bridge  to  the 
palace,  on  one  side  of  which,  deep  in  the  shadow 
and  guarded  by  bloodhounds,  excited  almost  to 
a  frenzy  by  the  unusual  light  and  noise,  stood 
the  royal  harem.  On  the  other  side  peacefully 
flowed  the  sacred  river,  lighted  only  by  the 
moon,  darkened  only,  now  and  then,  by  the 
passage  of  some  slave  boat  with  its  freight  of 
human  misery — the  memory  of  which  clouded  all 
the  splendour  and  went  with  us  even  to  the  foot 
of  the  throne. 

The  crowds  in  the  palace  represented  every 
nationality.  Here  a  Frenchman  with  his  eyes 
on  every  woman  in  the  place,  there  a  beautiful 
American  drifted  through  the  mazes  of  the  waltz, 
and  next  her  a  stately  English  dame ;  here  a  party 
of  Germans  discussing  the  delicious  wines  and 
cigars  of  his  highness,  while  down  a  long  vista  of 
smoke-laden  rooms  sat  solemn-faced  [Turks  each 
with  his  nargileh  and  a  pile  of  gold  near  him, 
oblivious  of  all  around,  intent  only  on  the  game 
before  him.  Sounds  of  barbaric  music  mingled 
with  the  deep  baying  of  the  bloodhounds  came  to 
us  through  the  open  windows,  while  a  deeper, 


138  Islam  Lands 

louder  roar  was  from  a  young  lion  but  lately  added 
to  the  private  zoological  garden  of  the  palace. 

It  was  nearly  sunrise  on  a  Sunday  morning 
before  we  reached  our  hotel,  quite  weary  enough 
to  enjoy  a  day  of  ''rest, "  but  there  was  no  "day 
of  rest"  in  Cairo  in  those  days.  Fete  followed 
fete,  day  after  day,  and  for  weeks  after  we  had 
sailed  away  to  Upper  Egypt.  As  we  left  the 
hotel  on  our  way  to  the  dahabeah,  several  of 
the  royal  carriages  passed,  the  occupants  of 
which  cast  handfuls  of  gold  to  the  people,  and 
as  we  sailed  southward,  the  palace  of  the  *'Kasr- 
el-Ali"  close  to  the  river  bank  was  alive  with  the 
glories  of  another  fete,  but  we  had  had  enough 
of  them  and  sank  with  sighs  of  contentment  upon 
the  divans  of  the  boat,  while  we  watched  her 
graceful  lateen-sails  fill  with  the  north  wind, 
which  soon  wafted  us  silently  and  swiftly  away 
from  the  sights  and  sounds  of  modem  Cairo — 
into  the  shadowy  silence  of  that  old,  old  land, 
rendered  the  more  silent  and  solemn  by  the  very 
contrast  with  the  splendours  behind  us. 

Few  who  visited  Egypt  in  the  days  of  1873  in 
any  way  appreciated  the  pageant  of  joy  and  sor- 
row, light  and  deepest  darkness,  which  constantly 
unrolled  before  their  eyes.  The  land  was  far 
more  gorgeous  in  those  days  than  in  those  of  the 
new  century,  but  it  was  a  land  for  the  rich  only, 
at  least  a  land  of  pleasure  for  them  alone;  for 
the  people,  it  was  one  long  night  of  horror.  Yet 
one  wonders  whether  they  looked  upon  it  in  that 


Egypt  under  the  Pashas  139 

light,  wonders  whether  they  would  not  willingly, 
at  least  ungrumblingly,  return  to  that  same  state, 
if  England  left  their  land  to  its  fate.  How  long 
would  it  be  before  the  Pashas  reasserted  them- 
selves, returned  to  their  old  lives  of  bloodshed 
and  pillage,  and  would  not  the  people  silently 
bow  their  heads  and  backs,  murmuring,  "It  is 
the  will  of  Allah,  God  is  great, "  at  the  same  time 
considering  it  all  as  it  should  be? — for  with  these 
Orientals,  force  and  strength  means  right  and 
justice,  if  you  are  the  stronger  you  have  a  right 
to  take  all  you  can;  it  is  their  misfortune  that 
they  are  the  weaker  but  it  ''has  been  so  ordained 
of  Allah. "  Did  any  traveller  who  came  here  then 
really  appreciate  the  fact  that  Egypt  was  one  if 
not  the  greatest  mouth  of  the  slave  trade,  that 
those  great  barges  which  passed  your  gay  boat  on 
the  sacred  river  were  laden  with  humanity,  as 
much  goods  and  chattels  as  your  dog,  and  with 
not  so  much  a  right  to  their  lives?  Their  black 
faces  were  turned  toward  your  floating  palace 
with  stolid  unthinking  expressions,  they  were 
packed  standing  in  those  barges  like  posts,  and 
had  not  left  them  since  they  started  down  the 
river  from  the  cataract,  six  hundred  miles  away. 
If  Ismail  wanted  some  hundreds  to  work,  which 
he  generally  did,  on  his  works,  he  simply  sent 
an  order  to  Khartoum  to  the  sheiks  of  the  land  for 
so  many  thousands  of  their  people  and  they  came 
shortly,  floating  down  the  river,  packed  as  you 
saw.      Countless  perished  en  route  but  left  the 


140  Islam  Lands 

desired  hundreds.  It  is  something  to  have  seen 
all  that,  though  one  thanks  God  that  it  is  done 
with  for  ever. 

How  gorgeous  Cairo  was,  what  a  blaze  of 
colour. 

Splendid  carriages  from  the  royal  harems  with 
hideous  eunuchs  on  guard  and  flying  seiis 
(footmen)  sped  along  the  streets. 

Aida  was  performed  I  remember  for  its  second 
time  one  night  at  the  new  opera  house  of  the 
Khedive.  We  did  not  miss  that,  and  next  came 
the  great  ball — already  referred  to — at  the  Palace 
of  the  Gezira.  All  the  world  was  there,  that  is,  all 
the  world  of  the  rich, — all  the  world  which  then 
had  any  right  to  live.  The  outer  darkness  was 
filled  by  thousands  who  stood  for  hours  looking 
on,  but  they  had  then  scarce  the  right  to  Hve; 
certainly  no  one  cared  when  or  how  they  died 
or  where  they  were  buried.  Gordon  had  not 
yet  appeared  on  the  horizon,  and  hence  as  yet 
no  light  pierced  the  blackness  of  their  skies. 
But  he  was  coming, — the  next  year,  1874,  saw 
his  entrance  upon  the  scene,  where  he  was  to  die, 
and  where  his  name  was  to  become  immortal — 
but  nine  years  of  his  life  and  nine  of  his  immor- 
tality must  roll  away  before  Omdurman  be  fought 
and  his  work  was  done.  Be  it  recorded  to  the 
credit  of  Ismail  Pasha — of  whom  so  little  good  is 
ever  told — that  he  was  always  a  staunch  sup- 
porter of  General  Gordon. 

While  Cairo  has  lost  much  that  was  Oriental — 


Mecca  Pilgrims  141 

which  the  artist  will  regret — she  is  still  a  most 
interesting  city. 

I  think  no  other  spot  on  the  globe  can  show 
even  in  these  prosaic  days  such  a  wonderful,  ever- 
shifting  panorama,  as  that  which  unrolls  itself 
upon  and  in  front  of  the  terrace  of  Shepheard's 
Hotel,  and  if  you  would  enjoy  living  in  Cairo 
you  will  spend  most  of  your  time  there. 

Look  now.  Yonder  comes  a  procession  with 
much  beating  of  drums,  producing  that  strange 
monotone  one  always  associates  with  the  cataracts. 
Three  white  camels  gaily  caparisoned  bear  the 
musicians,  while  on  a  stately  white  donkey  rides 
an  Arab  in  gorgeous  attire,  surrounded  by  his 
friends  and  followed  by  his  family  in  a  closed 
carriage,  over  which  brilliant  scarfs  are  draped. 
He  has  just  returned  from  Mecca  and  therefore 
emanates  sanctity  as  he  passes  along. 

When  you  think  of  pilgrims  to  Mecca,  do  your 
thoughts  fly  to  a  far- stretching  yellow  desert, 
over  which  mirages  drift  and  shimmer,  with 
slowly  moving  caravans  of  stately  camels  and 
lowly  donkeys,  of  hosts  of  turbaned,  swarthy 
men,  of  many  prayer-rugs  and  much  pray- 
ing as  the  sun  goes  down?  If  you  were  here 
in  the  Egypt  of  to-day  you  might  witness  the 
departure  or  return  of  many  pilgrims,  but  dis- 
miss for  ever  the  picture  your  mind's  eye  has 
carried  since  you  studied  your  first  geography 
at  your  mother's  knee,  dismiss  it  or  be  woefully 
disappointed. 


142  Islam  Lands 

Yonder  comes  a  Mussulman  but  just  returned, 
and  returning  in  a  motor  car.  Having  much  money 
he  is  attended  by  all  the  pomp  of  his  sect 
and  people.  There  are  inlaid  camel  chairs, 
gorgeously  dressed  torch-bearers,  many  dancing 
men,  a  band,  mounted  on  camels,  which  keeps 
up  an  incessant  tom-toming.  Still,  the  pilgrim 
is  in  a  motor  car,  he  would  laugh  in  your  face  if 
you  asked  about  camels  and  donkeys  to  the  tomb 
of  the  prophet.  He  took  train  to  Suez,  ship 
to  the  port  of  Mecca,  and  probably  a  trolley  over 
the  few  miles  to  that  sacred  city,  where  he  found 
the  shrine  of  his  faith  lit  by  electricity. 

Groups  of  these  attendants,  more  or  less  gor- 
geous as  the  pilgrim's  purse  may  allow,  are  con- 
stantly passing  to  the  railway  station,  as  this  is 
the  season  for  the  return  of  pilgrims. 

Here  is  a  poor  man,  not  the  least  in  the  sight 
of  his  lord  because  of  that.  He  rides  a  lowly 
donkey  and  wears  his  festal  clothes,  and  many 
bright  silk  scarfs  hang  from  his  turban, — but  he 
has  no  camels,  cars,  or  musicians,  simply  some 
friends  who  hold  his  hand  as  he  passes  onward. 
A  lowly  cart  follows,  holding  his  wives  and 
children. 

While  I  write  a  monkey  has  climbed  the  railing 
near  me  and  makes  a  grab  at  my  pencil,  only  to 
receive  a  swat  on  the  side  of  the  head  from  his 
master,  which  causes  him  to  wildly  leap  into  the 
air  and  land  on  another  man's  head, — confusion. 

Stately  donkeys  go  along  about  their  business, 


Native  Cairo  143 

paying  no  attention  to  the  fuss  in  the  streets. 
Venders  of  post-cards,  rugs,  embroideries,  scarfs, 
beads,  cigarettes,  and  ostrich  plumes  shout  the 
merits  of  their  merchandise  into  one's  ear. 

Here  comes  a  stately  Armenian  funeral.  Black- 
robed  priests  lead  the  way,  and  the  dead  rests  on 
a  majestic  catafalque.  Yonder  is  an  Arab  one, 
with  the  sleeper  borne  head  first  in  an  open 
coffin  on  men's  shoulders  but  with  a  camel's 
hair  shawl  thrown  over  as  a  pall.  Following 
are  some  Arab  carts  closely  packed  with  veiled 
women,  supposedly  the  wives  of  the  departed, 
though  it  is  said  that  many  are  borrowed  for  the 
occasion  that  he  may  have  an  impressive  departure 
from  this  world  of  sin  straight  to  the  bosom  of 
Mohammed. 

As  they  pass  the  air  is  shivered  into  atoms  by 
that  strange,  weird  cry  of  mourning  which  one 
may  hear  in  Ireland  in  the  keening  for  the  dead. 

It  has  been  suggested  that  some  of  these 
funerals  are  fakes  gotten  up  by  Cook  &  Son  to 
retain  Cairo's  prestige  as  an  Oriental  city. 

Here  comes  that  dancing  monkey  again;  grab- 
bing my  stick  he  is  off  and  I  don't  get  it  back 
until  a  half  a  piastre  changes  from  my  hand  to 
his  cold  little  paw.  He  has  come  to  know  me 
well — tramps  are  apt  to  become  easily  acquainted 
— and  I  declare  winks  in  a  most  wicked  fashion 
when  we  meet  on  the  promenade,  when  he  gen- 
erally turns  a  back  somersault.  He  is  the  only 
monkey  which  has  impressed  upon  me  the  fact 


144  Islam  Lands 

that  he  is  naked — ^walking  upright  and  holding 
his  master's  hand  he  lounges  towards  one  like 
a  Bond  Street  dude  and  I  cannot  but  feel  that  he 
should  be  run  in  for  outraging  public  decency. 

One  is  apt  to  meet  all  sorts  of  people  on  the 
terrace  at  Shepheard's.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  last  place 
on  earth  where  one  should  meet  strangers,  espec- 
ially if  one  is  a  young  girl,  yet  it 's  the  place  of 
all  others  where  that  is  apt  to  happen  most  fre- 
quently, happen  before  you  can  raise  hand  to 
prevent  it.  I  should  never  bring  a  yoimg  girl 
to  Egypt.  You  cannot  keep  her  from  making 
these  most  undesirable  acquaintances,  which  it  is 
most  difficult  to  cast  off ;  especially  are  they  in  evi- 
dence in  all  the  hotels  on  the  occasion  of  the 
dances.  These  same  dances  last  all  night  and 
seven  in  the  morning  has  found  the  dancers  still  in 
motion  in  the  grill-room.  As  I  have  stated,  men 
and  women  of  all  classes  flock  to  them. 

The  Savoy  prides  itself  upon  being  more  select, 
but  they  are  there  all  the  same,  plenty  of  them. 

Two  most  accomplished  rogues  have  just  de- 
parted hastily  from  here,  most  attractive  men, 
charming  in  manners  and  decidedly  retiring,  the 
last  persons  one  would  ever  pick  out  for  what  they 
undoubtedly  were.  They  brought  a  high  powered 
and  expensive  motor  with  them.  As  there  are 
no  roads  in  Egypt  save  one  to  the  pyramids  seven 
miles  off  on  one  side  and  one  to  Heliopolis  as  far 
on  the  other,  there  would  seem  but  little  use  for 
a  motor,  but  that  red  car  was  on  the  rush  all  the 


Queer  Characters  145 

time;  one  trip  being  over  the  sands  to  Suez, 
when,  without  guard  or  chauffeur,  the  party- 
got  lost  and  spent  the  night,  in  the  desert,  keep- 
ing awake  all  the  time  for  several  reasons,  cold 
and  wild  beasts  being  among  them.  The  two 
men  suddenly  disappeared  and  all  sorts  of  tales 
abounded  concerning  them.  I  cannot  see  what 
their  game  could  have  been  in  Cairo.  I  did 
not  hear  of  their  having  approached  any  one' 
in  the  matter  of  cards  or  games  of  chance.  They 
appeared  intent  upon  a  good  time,  but  no  more 
so  than  hundreds  around  them.  However,  they 
vanished  one  morning,  motor  and  all,  like  the 
mists  before  the  sun. 

Just  now  I  met  a  young  man  returning  from 
a  long  drive  which  he  had  taken  with  **a  most 
charming  fellow"  whom  he  had  met  on  the  ter- 
race.;-  They  drove  every  place  and  saw  every- 
thing and  enjoyed  every  moment,  the  stranger 
acting  as  guide.  The  yoimg  American  said  as 
he  entered  the  lift,  **Was  n't  it  nice  of  him? 
When  I  got  back  I  missed  my  watch  and  chain,'* 
— which  appreciation  of  the  situation  shows  that 
the  American  was  not  such  a  fool  as  he  seemed. 

There  is  also  here  a  funny  little  man  who 
reminds  one  of  old  Flintwitch  in  Dickens's  Little 
Dorrit.  His  cravat  is  usually  roving  under  his 
left  ear.  He  looks  like  a  guinea-pig  on  its  hind 
legs  and  moves  as  said  pig  would  do  in  such  a 
position,  that  is,  shuffles.  We  call  him  "Fifteen 
minutes"  because  he  takes  forty  drinks  per  day, 


146  Islam  Lands 

a  day  of  twelve  hours,  hence  unless  he  doubles 
up  he  must  take  one  every  fifteen  minutes.  This 
he  does  as  regularly  as  clock-work,  except  that 
on  ball  nights,  being  imable  to  pass  the  great 
rotimda  where  the  dance  goes  on,  he  makes  a 
detour  aroimd  by  the  long  side  hall  and  is  there- 
fore sometimes  late,  the  only  effect  being  that 
he  has  no  rest  between  times,  but  keeps  con- 
stantly on  the  move.  He  drinks  nothing  but 
sherry,  of  which  he  consumes  nine  dollars'  worth 
per  day.  He  was  always  the  last  thing  one  saw 
on  going  to  bed  and  when  we  left  in  the  early 
morning  he  was  already  returning  from  his  first 
drink.  I  shall  always  think  of  him  as  drifting 
through  the  shadowy  corridors  of  the  hotel,  much 
as  that  dead  man  must  be  drifting  far  down  in 
the  darkness  of  the  Red  Sea. 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  Dust-Storm — A  Dinner  in  the  Citadel — "The  King,  God 
Bless  Him" — Anderson  Bey — An  Interesting  Afternoon 
— Useless  Slaughter  of  Game — Return  of  the  Holy- 
Carpet  from  Mecca — Contrasts  in  Life — Departure 
from  Egypt. 

SUDDENLY  while  we  were  at  luncheon  to-day 
a  yellow  gloom  descended  upon  the  world 
without.  The  windows  appeared  fitted  with  yel- 
low glass  and  we  rubbed  our  eyes  to  see  what  was 
the  matter,  and  then  adjourned  en  masse  to  the 
terrace,  our  great  opera  box. 

All  the  world  had  changed,  the  streets  usually 
so  full  of  merry  crowds  were  deserted  and  silent 
as  a  tomb,  whilst  the  heavens  above  us  were 
filled  with  a  golden  glow,  but  the  air  was  as  still 
as  death.  The  atmospheric  effects  were  most 
gorgeous,  all  the  houses  and  trees,  all  life  animate 
and  inanimate,  was  as  though  powdered  in  gold 
dust,  and  even  as  we  watched  arose  the  sobbing 
and  sighing  of  winds,  winds  from  far  off,  from 
the  recesses  of  the  farther  deserts,  and  instantly 
we  were  in  the  midst  of  a  howling  sand-storm,  and 
fled  indoors  half  stifled — not  that  an  escape  was 
effected  by  that  move,  for  the  dust  penetrated 
cracks  and  crannies  and  soon  filled  all  the  house, 
i  147 


148  Islam  Lands 

getting  into  our  hair  and  Itings,  penetrating 
trunks  and  closets.  I  tried  to  take  a  nap,  and 
felt  strangled.  It  was  the  most  wonderful  and 
the  most  imcomfortable  storm  I  have  ever  been 
in,  and  I  do  not  believe  I  could  have  survived  it 
in  the  desert,  where,  in  fact,  so  many  do  lose  their 
lives  in  just  such  storms.  However,  it  was  worth 
enduring  for  that  glimpse  of  the  world  in  gold. 
The  storm  passing  we  were  in  due  time  dug 
out — so  to  speak — and  enabled  to  bathe  and  dress 
for  dinner.  It 's  not  so  easy  to  go  out  to  dine  in 
Cairo,  at  least  in  certain  quarters.  To-night, 
due  at  the  citadel  at  eight  for  dinner  in  the  officers* 
mess,  I  had  ordered  a  taxicab,  but  when  the  time 
to  start  came,  the  chatiffeur  absolutely  refused  to 
climb  the  hill,  he  would  take  me  to  the  foot  where 
I  might  find  a  cab.  It  was  ^'Hobson's  choice** 
and  I  took  it  only  to  find  a  cab  which  also  refused 
to  climb  the  hill,  but  Egypt's  reliance,  the  ubiqiii- 
tous  donkey,  was  on  hand,  or  rather  on  foot,  and 
so  ready  to  one's  use  that  when  I  stepped  from 
the  car  on  the  dark  side,  I  slid  aboard  a  donkey 
before  I  knew  what  was  happening  and  found 
myself  flying  up  the  hill  and  with  a  certainty  of 
getting  where  I  wanted  to  go.  A  most  undigni- 
fied appearance,  doubtless,  as  full  dress  when 
aboard  a  donkey  is  not  elegant  to  say  the  least. 
One  stirrup  being  inches  shorter  than  the  other 
I  was  obliged  to  discard  both  and  strike  a  balance. 
I  am  ashamed  to  say  that  rounding  curves  and 
comers   and   brushing   against   camels,    I    held 


Dinner  in  the  Mess  149 

wildly  to  the  ptimmel,  but  even  in  my  flight  I 
could  not  but  be  impressed  with  the  picturesque- 
ness  of  the  scene. 

The  old  Arab  city  lay  asleep  in  the  moonlight ; 
to  my  right  the  ancient  mosque  of  Sultan  Hassan 
cast  sharp  shadows  athwart  the  square,  while 
under  its  portals  some  white  turbaned  figures 
were  bowing  their  adulations  towards  Mecca. 
In  front  twisted  the  lanes  of  the  city,  bounded  by 
long  blank  walls,  with  here  and  there  a  jalousied 
casement  breaking  the  monotony.  What  does 
not  go  on  back  of  those  walls?  I  fancy  one  would 
never  again  be  heard  of,  having  entered  there, 
and  would  promptly  drop  backwards  through  the 
flying  centuries  to  the  fifteenth.  We  are  in  the 
twentieth  out  here,  but  it  would  be  the  fifteenth 
just  inside  there,  at  least  you  would  never  come 
out  to  tell  the  tale,  and  so  I  do  not  enter,  but  urge 
the  donkey  onward  as  I  glance  upward  to  where 
the  mosque  of  Mohammed  Ali  gleams  white  in 
the  moonlight,  its  delicate  minarets  piercing  far 
upward  into  the  blue  dome  of  heaven. 

But  I  have  little  time  to  contemplate  all  that. 
It  would  almost  seem  that  it  was  the  donkey 
bound  for  his  dinner,  and  not  myself,  such  is 
our  wild  flight  through  the  silent  city,  through 
dark  streets  and  frowning  gateways,  where 
the  challenge  of  the  sentinel  meets  with  no 
response,  under  the  walls  of  the  mosque  itself, 
and  finally  shot  off  at  a  flight  of  stone  steps, 
much  the  worse  for  the  journey,  for  which  how- 


150  Islam  Lands 

ever  I  pay  generously  and  donkey  and  donkey- 
boy  trot  away  contentedly,  while  I  mount  the 
stairs  to  the  dinner  of  the  Dublin  Fusiliers. 

There  are  not  many  here  to-night.  Most  of 
the  officers  are  out  in  the  desert,  manoeuvring 
their  men  if  they  are  not  all  buried  by  the  howling 
sand-storm,  but  last  week  the  mess-room  was 
crowded  and  the  long  table  laden  with  beautiful 
silver,  lighted  with  many  wax  lights  in* stately  can- 
delabras,  and  surroimded  by  the  officers  in  scar- 
let mess-jackets  presented  a  beautiful  appearance. 

Dinner  is  well  over  when  the  call,  "Gentlemen, 
the  King"  brought  all  to  their  feet  and  while 
the  regimental  band  outside  played  the  national 
anthem  we  drank  to  the  health  of  his  Majesty  of 
England — ^for  the  good  of  his  people  may  his 
reign  be  a  long  one.  It  will  certainly  be  a  sad  day 
for  England  when  it  closes.^  These  halls  in  this 
ancient  citadel  are  all  very  spacious  and  lofty. 
If  this  were  a  European  fortress  it  would  be 
honeycombed  with  secret  passages  and  dungeons, 
but  I  am  told  such  is  not  the  case.  Its  former 
masters  did  not  consider  it  necessary  to  waste 
space  on  their  prisoners  but  simply  impaled  or 
hanged  them  from  the  battlements.  Few  trav- 
ellers who  come  here  ever  see  any  portion  of  the 
citadel  except  the  great  mosque  of  Mohammed  Ali, 
which   occupies   its   most  elevated   point.     The 

»  As  this  goes  to  press  comes  the  news  of  the  death  of  King 
Edward.  All  the  nations  sympathise  with  Great  Britain,  and 
none  more  sincerely  than  America. 


Anderson  Bey  151 

palace  or  fortress  circles  the  hill  below  it  and  of 
this  one  catches  glimpses  as  one  mounts  through 
the  several  portals.  All  are  protected  by  heavy 
double  sets  of  gates  above  which  the  many  jalousied 
windows  now  generally  frame  some  scarlet-coated 
English  officers,  the  brilliant  colour  in  marked 
contrast  to  the  yellow  walls  and  deep  blue  sky. 

Yesterday  we  visited  Anderson  Bey,  who  came 
up  on  the  ship  with  us  from  Suez.  The  poor 
man  was  thrown  from  his  carriage  en  route  from 
the  station  and  sustained  a  severe  kick  from  a 
passing  horse  so  that  we  found  him  stretched 
on  a  couch.  His  quarters  are  in  a  part  of  the 
citadel  far  distant  from  those  of  the  Fusiliers. 
We  entered  the  fortress  by  the  main  portal  and 
wound  upward  for  some  distance  between  high 
blank  walls  with  no  break  in  them  except  a  few 
loop-holes.  The  way  ended  in  a  cul-de-sac  where 
an  attacking  party  would  be  absolutely  at  the 
mercy  of  the  besieged.  Of  course  the  entire 
fortress  is  as  nothing  when  modern  artillery  is 
considered.  We  found  Major  Anderson,  or  An- 
derson Bey  as  he  is  called,  established  in  luxurious 
and  most  interesting  quarters,  made  so  by  his 
hundreds  of  trophies  from  the  hunting  field. 

I  am  not  a  sportsman.  While  it  is  to  me  delight- 
ful to  follow  the  hounds,  I  am  always  pleased 
when  the  fox  gets  away.  With  great  game  I 
should  like  to  be  able  to  watch  their  habits  and 
always  envied  that  naturalist  who  spent  some 
time  in  an  iron  cage  in  the  jungles  of  Africa,  but 


152  Islam  Lands 

the  desire  for  slaughter  for  slaughter's  sake  is 
strange  to  me.  It  is  necessary  for  food  at  times 
and  was  justified  when  the  animal  kingdom  of 
these  far-off  lands  was  imknown  to  our  world, 
but  when  for  instance  a  splendid  specimen  of 
the  fast-vanishing  giraffe  is  killed — simply  for 
the  sake  of  having  done  so  or  of  having  one's 
name  emblazoned  on  the  brass  plate  which  marks 
the  stuffed  animals  in  some  museum — that  should 
be  made  a  criminal  offence.  This  scarcely  holds 
with  the  collection,  or  collector,  of  the  specimens  we 
have  just  inspected.  They  are  all  of  small  game  of 
which  there  seems  little  danger  of  extinction,  and  if 
I  remember  correctly  there  was  but  one  specimen  of 
each  and  the  instruction  we  received  from  the 
owner  was  of  great  value  and  interest.  There  was 
no  bombast  about  him  nor  do  I  remember  that  his 
name  was  "emblazoned  upon  any  brass  plate." 
I  think  I  have  never  met  any  one  so  well  in- 
formed on  almost  every  topic  as  Major  Anderson 
and  especially  upon  those  relating  to  this  section 
of  the  world.  As  we  moved  from  object  to  object 
he  described  each  and  every  one  so  instructively 
that  several  hours  passed  before  we  knew  it. 
Each  set  of  antlers — and  there  were  many  of 
them — received  an  interesting  account  of  their 
capture — every  skin  or  bundle  of  spears  had  its 
story,  until  one  seemed  to  live  far-off  in  the  forest 
and  desert  of  the  distant  Sudan.  The  meeting 
with  men  of  this  sort  forms  the  charm  of  world 
travel.     Those  hours  in  the  citadel  were  red-letter 


Return  of  the  Carpet  153 

ones  for  us,  to  be  followed  by  a  morning  of  equal 
interest  but  far  different  in  kind. 

To-day  the  Holy  Carpet  returns  from  Mecca, 
and  will  be  received  by  the  Khedive  in  the 
square  below  the  citadel.  It  is  the  only  day  and 
ceremony  during  the  year  in  which  he  reigns 
supreme.  Not  an  English  flag  or  soldier  will  be 
seen,  though  you  will  find  that  many  of  the 
officers  are  from  the  British  army,  "loaned  by 
the  King." 

There  are  some  seventy  carriages  ordered  at 
Shepheard's  alone,  and  it  behooves  us  to  move 
early  in  order  that  we  may  find  a  good  point 
of  vantage.  Eight  o'clock  finds  us  en  route 
through  the  streets,  already  teeming  with  a  merry 
multitude  from  all  parts  of  the  world. 

As  we  pass  the  numerous  mosques,  the  steps 
are  black  with  women  who  have  sat  there  all 
night.  At  the  far  end  of  the  street  of  Mohammed 
Ali,  the  great  mosque  of  the  citadel  rears  its 
minarets  and  atop  and  beyond  the  mountains 
of  Moukatam  gleam  yellow  in  the  sunlight.  The 
square  below  the  citadel  has  been  roped  off  into 
sections,  into  one  of  which  we  are  directed  and 
where  we  are  fortunate  enough  to  secure  a  place 
close  to  the  way  down  which  the  procession  must 
pass.  Back  of  us  the  walls  of  the  fortress  frown 
down  on  the  passing  show,  and  at  the  same  time 
keep  off  the  rays  of  the  sun,  though  at  this  hour 
they  would  be  welcome,  as  it  is  cold. 

To  our  right  clusters  a  group  of  mosques,  and 


154  Islam  Lands 

below  them  myriads  of  the  people  in  their  pic- 
turesque costumes  are  gathered. 

A  grand-stand  faces  us  occupied  by  diplomats 
and  others  who  will  not  have  half  as  good  a  view 
as  ourselves.  Beyond  all  stretches  the  Oriental 
city,  a  mass  of  flat  roofs  and  graceful  minarets. 

Here  comes  the  army  marching  to  European 
music.  There  are  the  Lancers  in  blue  and  white 
and  a  very  smart  regiment  in  khaki  with  the 
scarlet  tarboosh.  Here  are  some  stately  sheiks 
of  the  desert  in  heavy  cloth  gowns  and  brilliant 
turbans:  yonder  is  one  in  a  robe  of  plum  colour 
over  apple  green.  His  red  turban  is  wound  in 
white  with  a  band  of  gold  around  it,  while  pointed 
yellow  slippers  show  beneath  the  robe.  He  has 
a  far-off  expression  like  an  eagle,  as  though  all 
this  were  littleness,  and  he  moves  as  stately  as 
a  drifting  cloud.  Now  pass  some  flying  seiis 
(white-robed  rtmners)  before  a  carriage  from  the 
royal  harem  which  holds  the  E^edive's  mother. 
The  place  is  all  aglow  and  glitter,  even  the  dust 
sparkles.  In  a  momentary  pause  the  voice  of 
a  muezzin,  far  up  in  a  minaret,  calls  the  faithful 
to  prayer,  a  summons  neglected  for  once  as  here 
comes  his  royal  highness,  the  Elhedive.  Her- 
alded by  some  mounted  soldiers  and  the  royal 
salute,  he  rides  in  a  superb  barouche  drawn  by 
four  splendid  bays  in  gorgeous  harness  with 
scarlet  and  gold  on  his  coachmen  and  footmen,  two 
of  the  latter  standing  behind  the  carriage.  One 
has  a  good  look  at  his  face,  and  finds  it  good  to 


Return  of  the  Carpet  155 

look  at,  a  pleasant,  open  countenance  of  a  man 
of  some  forty  years  of  age,  dressed  in  uniform  and 
wearing  many  orders  and  a  tarboosh,  scarlet, 
of  course,  as  are  all  tarboosh.  There  are  other 
men  in  the  carriage  but  they  pass  unnoticed. 

While  we  are  gazing  at  all  his  splendour,  I  glance 
downward  and,  clinging  to  the  steps  of  our  car- 
riage, is  a  most  appalling  leper,  a  terrible,  awful 
sight.  Such  are  the  contrasts  in  the  Orient. 
Splendour  on  the  one  hand,  horrors  on  the  other, 
until  one  wonders  whether  those  in  the  latter 
state  can  believe  in  a  merciful  God,  the  same  as 
those  in  the  former. 

Even  as  I  turn  shudderingly  away  from  the 
poor  wretch,  the  air  is  shivered  with  barbaric 
music  and  the  holy  procession  approaches.  Men 
on  foot  in  fantastic  garbs  of  brilliant  colour  lead 
a  stately  camel  of  gigantic  size,  especially  selected 
for  the  great  honour.  Over  his  head  nods  a  pom- 
pon. Head  and  neck  are  completely  covered  by 
gold  brocade  and  he  bears  a  towering  pagoda  of 
gilt  and  red  velvet  encrusted  with  embroideries. 
Therein  is  the  Sacred  Carpet.  Some  half  a  dozen 
other  camels  follow  bearing  the  musicians. 

The  procession  is  not  large,  but  very  effective. 
It  passes  round  the  square  formed  by  the  soldiers, 
and  pausing  a  moment  before  the  Khedive, 
moves  off  and  away  into  the  city  where  the  carpet 
will  be  divided  and  distributed  as  relics  amongst 
the  many  mosques. 

Then  the  Khedive  departs  followed  by  his  army, 


156  Islam  Lands 

the  dust  grows  thicker,  and  the  sun  hotter,  and 
we  are  glad  to  escape  into  the  shadowy  streets, 
leaving  the  square  to  silence  and  a  blue  sky  far 
up  in  which  some  vultures  float  motionless. 

No  matter  how  great  the  crowd  in  the  Orient 
everything  moves  with  a  rush  in  her  cities.  You 
must  go  into  the  desert  if  you  would  find  it  other- 
wise. Certainly  to-day  it  is  a  wild  rush  citywards. 
The  rattle  and  noise  is  tremendous  and  suddenly 
high  above  it  all  wails  the  strange  cry  for  the  dead, 
as  some  poor  mortal,  poor  in  every  sense  of  the 
word,  is  borne  past  us. 

For  the  last  time  we  mingle  with  the  gay  crowds 
on  Shepheard's  terrace,  especially  brilliant  to-day 
with  many  officers  in  bright  colours.  The  hours 
pass  and  the  day  ends.  To-morrow  we  go  forth 
and  onward. 

I  always  leave  Egypt  with  regret,  and  have  no 
sooner  done  so  than  I  plan  to  get  back  again.  I 
live  in  hopes  of  another  winter  on  her  Sacred 
River — not  in  a  steamboat,  not  roaring  and  rush- 
ing along,  but,  as  of  old,  in  a  dahabeah,  drifting 
and  dreaming,  going  when,  where,  and  how  we 
desire,  and  drinking  to  the  full  the  enchantment 
that  comes  with  that  life  of  silence,  day  after  day, 
week  after  week,  until  you  dream  of  the  lotus, 
see  the  lotus,  and,  "in  this  hollow  lotus  land,  live 
and  lie  reclined."  Nowhere  else  in  this  wide 
world  does  one  so  enter  into  and  become  a  part 
of  the  long  dead  past,  and  centuries  seem  but 
as  yesterday.     Now  and  then  you  awaken  with 


Passing  Time  157 

a  feeling  of  rebellion  against  the  terrible  and 
inevitable  forgetfulness  of  time.  These  slowly 
rolling  years  are  so  surely  taking  you  with  them 
to  be  in  a  little  while  carried  away  and  no  more 
seen — forgotten  utterly — even  as  these  ancient 
Egyptians.  "Earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes, 
dust  back  to  dust."  Especially  in  the  presence 
of  these  stately  ruins  does  your  little  span  of  life 
appear  less  than  nothing.  Thousands  of  years 
will  find  them  as  they  now  are,  while  you — what 
and  where?  Surely  nothing  but  a  firm  belief 
in  the  Christian  religion  enables  one  for  an  instant 
to  face  that  question,  yet  that  God  and  that 
religion  does  enable  you  to  look  it  all  calmly 
and  quietly  in  the  face.  "I  go  to  prepare  a  place 
for  you,  that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be  also." 
We  start  at  an  early  hour  but  even  as  the  wheels 
turn  are  planning  to  come  back.  I  have  accom- 
plished that  wish  about  every  twenty  years,  but 
cannot  hope  to  do  so  many  more  periods.  Alex- 
andria soon  comes  into  view  and  we  are  shortly 
aboard  a  little  ship  bound  for  Malta.  Fortunately 
the  sea  is  calm  and  the  voyage  a  pleasant  one, 
and  in  three  days  we  anchor  in  the  picturesque 
harbour  of  Valetta,  where  the  Orient  drops  away 
and  we  are  at  once  in  the  Middle  Ages.  It  was 
not  expected  that  we  would  land  until  morning, 
but  as  the  ship  goes  on  at  sunrise  we  are  forced 
to  do  so.  It  is  no  easy  matter  rousing  the  customs, 
the  hackmen,  or  the  hotel,  but  it 's  done  at  last 
and  we  rest  for  a  season. 


CHAPTER  X 

Arrival  in  Tunisia — History — First  Glimpse  of  Carthage — 
City  of  Tunis — Old  Friends — The  Road  to  Carthage  and 
its  Ruins — The  Ancient  City — St.  Louis  the  King  — 
Engaging  a  Motor — The  Run  to  Karawdn — Tunisian 
Meadows  and  Flowers — The  Holy  City  of  Karawdn — 
Its  Mosques,  History,  and  Legends — The  Gate  of  Green 
Gages — Moors'  Entrance  into  Spain. 

A  SEA  of  purple  splendour,  a  fair  blue  sky  made 
rosy  by  the  coming  of  day,  dark  mountains 
brooding  in  the  distance,  while  the  middle  fore- 
ground holds  a  green  cape  upon  which,  close  over 
the  water,  nestles  a  white  Moorish  town,  with  its 
minarets  and  balloon-shaped  domes,  which  seem 
about  to  float  away  in  the  still  air.  Beyond  this, 
on  a  lower  promontory,  green  also,  rise  the  walls 
of  a  cathedral  to  the  living  God.  A  few  ruined 
arches  encompass  it ;  all  the  surrounding  space  far 
inland  is  empty.  Yet  there,  once  stood  the 
stately  city  of  Carthage.  Where  the  cathedral 
now  stands  was  the  citadel  of  Dido,  gone  now 
so  completely;  yet  one  naturally  re-peoples  the 
spaces  and  rebuilds  the  city  in  one's  mind's  eye. 
Miles  of  stately  white  palaces  where  now  the 
grass  grows,   thousands  and  tens  of  thousands 

and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people  make  the 

158 


Ancient  Carthage  159 

scene  a  busy  one.  Where  now  a  few  donkey-boys 
drive  their  patient  little  beasts  the  elephants  of 
Hannibal's  hosts  trumpeted  out  their  impatience 
to  start  on  their  long  march  to  Rome,  westward 
until  the  Pillars  of  Hercules  rose  from  the  sea, 
northward  until  the  Pyrenees  were  past,  onward 
through  Gaul  and  southward  over  the  Alps  and 
Apennines,  until  Rome  stood  before  them.  Then 
the  tide  turned  and  ebbed  and  ebbed  with  defeat 
in  every  wave  until  suicide  ended  the  drama. 

There  are  no  boats  plying  between  the  Pillars 
of  Hercules  now  which  would  transport  an 
elephant.  What  means  had  the  African  General 
back  in  those  dim  ages?  But  the  march  from 
Carthage  was  long  and  weary  before  the  question 
had  to  be  solved. 

As  the  traveller  of  to-day  wanders  over  the 
plains  and  mountains  of  Tunisia,  he  is  impressed 
at  almost  every  step  with  the  memory  of  the 
magnificence  of  her  past,  that  is,  her  Roman  past, 
for  he  cannot  travel  any  distance  without  coming 
across  some  evidence  of  a  town  or  building  whose 
extent  or  solidity  has  left  marked  traces.  This 
holds  here  much  more  than  in  Italy,  Rome  itself 
not  excepted,  for  the  ruins  of  Timgad  alone  are 
more  magnificent  and  extensive  than  anything 
Rome  can  show,  with  the  one  exception  of  the 
Coliseum. 

Other  towns  in  Tunisia  hold  arenas  almost 
equal  in  size  and  magnificence  to  that  of  Rome. 

When  the  reign  of  the  Imperial  City  passed 


i6o  Islam  Lands 

away,  came  the  power,  piracy,  and  decay  of  the 
Mohammedan  period,  reducing  Tunisia  to  what 
France  found  it  in  1881.  Now  she  is  forging 
forward.  Though  to-day  the  Bey  is  still  nomin- 
ally the  ruler,  he  is  merely  a  figurehead,  used  by 
France  as  a  more  convenient  method  of  governing 
the  province  than  the  laws  of  France  would  offer. 

When  France  wanted  the  province  she  simply 
took  it  and  allowed  the  Bey  two  hours  in  which 
to  consider  a  treaty  he  already  knew  he  would 
have  to  sign,  a  treaty  which  constituted  the 
representatives  of  France  as  the  sole  medium  of 
communication  between  himself  and  his  subjects, 
and  they  are  all.  Bey  included,  very  much  the 
happier  in  consequence.  Still,  at  first  all  was  not 
smooth  sailing.  The  Mohammedans  were  stirred 
up  and  a  general  revolt  against  the  Bey  ensued, 
ending  in  the  conquest  by  France,  which  was  not 
accomplished  until  an  immense  army  was  sent 
over  which  conquered  the  land,  city  by  city,  until 
with  the  fall  of  the  holy  Karawan,  the  end  was 
accomplished,  and  to-day  Tunisia  moves  onward 
in  the  paths  of  peace  and  progress. 

That  she  is  so  moving  is  impressed  upon  us  as 
our  ship,  having  left  Carthage  behind,  slowly 
steams  up  the  canal  and  comes  to  rest  in  the 
modem  city  of  Tunis. 

I  visited  here  in  1891  and  find  great  improve- 
ments made  in  the  place  during  those  years. 
She  was  then  a  sleepy  old  town  with  little  evidence 
of  progress,  while  to-day  her  streets  and  wharves 


Tunis  i6i 

hum  with  the  life  of  a  growing  city.  Ships  from 
all  quarters  of  the  world  touch  at  her  port.  Her 
streets,  well  paved  and  lighted,  are  bordered  by- 
rows  of  fine  buildings  and  we  lodge  at  as  comfort- 
able an  hotel  as  one  could  wish  for. 

The  Arab  quarters  have  changed  but  little,  and 
one  finds  on  the  other  side  of  the  *'  Port  de  France" 
as  attractive  an  Oriental  city  as  one  could  wish 
for,  and  one  will  spend  many  hours  in  the  shadowy 
bazars  and  perfume-laden  shops. 

I  find,  still  sitting  in  the  spot  where  I  left  him 
nearly  twenty  years  ago,  a  stately  old  Arab  who 
declares  that  he  remembers  me  well,  and  welcomes 
me  as  a  long-absent  brother,  resulting,  of  course, 
to  his  credit  and  my  loss,  as  to  cash,  for  one  must 
buy  from  a  brother  who  has  not  seen  one  for 
twenty  years.  However,  I  rebel  when  almost 
every  other  old  chap,  in  all  the  booths  down  which 
the  news  has  spread  like  lightning,  welcomes  me 
also  like  a  brother.  Those  incidents  form  much 
of  the  pleasure  of  Oriental  travel.  In  my  mind's 
eye  I  can  see  a  network  of  ''brothers"  covering 
most  of  this  world,  and  I  doubt  not  that  there  are 
many  waiting  for  me,  no  matter  to  which  world 
I  may  be  sent  hereafter. 

As  we  leave  one  shop  an  old  Marabout,  who  is 
both  saint  and  gossip,  follows  us  first  with  many 
blessings  in  view  of  possible  cash  and  then  with 
a  shower  of  maledictions,  upon  us  and  our  an- 
cestors and  descendants  to  the  most  remote  degree, 
when  the  cash  is  not  forthcoming.     ''All  right, 


i62  Islam  Lands 

old  man,  if  your  heaven  holds  many  as  dirtily 
disreputable  as  yourself,  we  don't  want  to  go 
there,  hence  you  need  not  bar  the  door. " 

As  we  move  outward  on  the  carriage  road  to 
Carthage  we  pass  the  Jewish  cemetery,  a  vast 
field  full  of  great  fiat  tombstones,  and  each  one 
occupied  by  a  group  of  Jewish  women.  Over 
their  brilliant  dresses  they  wear  long  white 
mantles  which,  falling  from  horn-like  projections 
affixed  to  the  forehead,  enshroud  the  entire 
figure,  so  that  the  wearers  as  they  sit  with  heads 
closely  together  look  like  a  lot  of  Ku-Klux,  and 
it  is  said  that  all  the  gossip  and  scandal  of  the 
Jewish  section  of  Tunis  originates  in  that  field 
of  the  dead.  I  think  I  know  some  at  home,  who, 
having  made  such  the  business  of  their  lives, 
wo\ild  like  to  be  buried  here  where  they  could  at 
least  listen  and  chuckle  in  ghoulish  glee; — but  let 
us  pass  on. 

The  road  to  Carthage  winds  along  the  shores 
of  the  bay,  until  we  find  ourselves  in  front  of  the 
cathedral;  Cardinal  Lavigerie's  cherished  desire 
is  accomplished  in  this  church  and  he,  who  did 
so  much  for  Tunisia,  sleeps  within  its  walls. 

This  hill  was  the  site  of  the  Byrsa  or  citadel 
of  Carthage,  but  to-day  as  we  gaze  around  and 
away  not  a  vestige  of  the  ancient  city  remains, 
though  even  up  to  the  time  of  St.  Louis  there  were 
many  buildings  still  intact,  and  Carthage  was  yet 
a  city.  But  the  followers  of  the  prophet  have 
blotted  it  out. 


St.  Louis  the  King  163 

^  Louis  the  King  died  here  on  August  25,  1270. 

Just  beyond  stood  the  palace  of  Dido,  whose 
walls  are  still  there  underground,  and  from  there, 
if  she  was  burned,that  queen  might  have  witnessed 
the  departure  of  the  Trojans. 

As  we  wander  over  the  adjoining  country,  we 
are  impressed  with  the  fact  that  there  is  an  im- 
mense and  rich  field  here  for  the  archaeologist. 
The  time  may  yet  come  when,  like  Timgad, 
Carthage  will  stand  revealed  to  us.  Even  as  it 
is,  there  has  of  late  years  been  uncovered  much 
of  interest;  all  in  ruins,  of  course,  but  still  of 
interest. 

The  thieves  of  Europe  and  vandals  of  the 
prophet  have  done  all  they  could  here,  and  modern 
Tunis  is  built  from  ancient  Carthage,  and  still 
there  is  doubtless  much  of  great  interest  and 
value  under  these  daisies  and  almond  trees  in 
such  beautiful  bloom  to-day. 

It 's  worth  while  dying  in  North  Africa  just 
to  be  buried  under  an  almond  tree. 

As  we  leave  the  spot  where  the  King  died  we 
pause  a  while  in  the  museum  the  monks  have 
collected  around  it, — a  vast  collection  of  frag- 
ments, capitals,  columns,  inscriptions,  etc.,  but 
I  find  myself  pausing  longest  over  an  ancient 
sarcophagus  in  which,  what  once  was  a  man, 
like  myself,  gazes  up  at  us  from  empty  eyes  and 
across  all  the  centuries  between  now  and  then. 
He  saw  it  all,  perhaps  may  have  even  known 
Dido.     Certainly  he  was  one  of  importance  to  have 


i64  Islam  Lands 

been  buried  in  this  carven  tomb,  yet  there  is  no 
inscription  and  we  know  not  who  he  was.  What 
would  he  have  said  could  he  have  been  told  that, 
as  he  lay  dying,  perhaps  in  the  palace  itself,  whose 
very  site  is  now  a  matter  of  discussion? 

"Gather  your  roses  while  you  may." 

If  you  are  interested  in  so  doing,  you  may 
easily  discover  the  ancient  ports  of  Carthage. 
We  passed  their  sites  as  we  entered  by  Goletta 
from  the  sea.  What  funny  little  places  they  would 
appear  to  our  modem  eyes, — the  Mauretania 
would  cover  them  both  and  have  room  to  spare 
for  a  few  Roman  ships  on  her  deck.  They  were 
artificial  basins  and  to  one  of  our  day  present  the 
appearance  of  a  railway  round-house  with  their 
amphitheatre-like  structure  into  the  cells  of  which 
the  galleys — little  if  any  larger  than  a  locomotive — 
were  backed  for  the  night.  Two  hundred  and 
twenty  could  be  accommodated  while  above  were 
naval  store-houses. 

The  admiral  lived  on  the  island  in  the  centre 
(see  illustration)  from  whence  were  trumpeted 
his  orders. 

There  was  another  port  for  merchantmen  but 
those  entering  there  could  not  spy  upon  the 
naval  station  as  heavy  walls  cut  off  their  view — so 
much  for  the  navy.  The  army  appears  to  have 
found  quarters  in  the  walls  of  the  city.  There 
appears  to  have  been  but  one  wall — to  the  south 


The  Byrsa  165 

of  the  city — and  there  stood  the  citadel — called 
Byrsa.  This  was  enclosed  in  a  triple  wall  of  thirty 
cubits  high,  not  counting  the  highest  of  the 
parapets  and  towers  which  were  four  stories 
in  height  and  with  foundations  extending  down 
thirty  feet — the  walls  reaching  only  to  the  second 
story.  The  whole  was  vaulted  and  so  vastly 
that  there  were  stalls  for  three  hundred  elephants, 
while  above  were  stabled  four  thousand  horses, 
and  lodgings  for  twenty  thousand  footmen  and 
four  thousand  horsemen.  The  entire  army  was 
in  these  walls. 

One  ''Dreadnought"  of  to-day  could  have  taken 
ancient  Carthage  in  a  few  hours.  Does  the  future 
hold  engines  and  implements  of  war  so  formidable 
that  those  of  to-day  will  then  appear  as  insignif- 
icant as  those  of  Carthage  do  to  us?  Doubtless, 
for  the  air  is  the  future  battle-field. 

There  is  nothing  left  of  the  Byrsa-citadel — 
which  was  also  the  palace — that  is,  nothing  above 
ground,  though  excavations  might  turn  up 
much  of  interest.  In  the  illustration  it  is  the 
square-towered  structure  in  the  right-hand  lower 
comer.  It  was  built  of  Numidian  marble  mottled 
with  yellow  and  rose,  in  four  terraces  like  stories. 
There  were  straight  staircases  of  massive  ebony 
bearing  at  the  angles  the  prows  of  vanquished 
galleys.  There  was  a  brazen  trellis  to  protect 
from  scorpions  and  a  lattice  of  gilded  bars  en- 
closed its  apertures  above — the  whole  solemn  and 
gloomy.     The  magnificent  Via  Coelestis  stretched 


1 66  Islam  Lands 

away  from  it  for  two  miles.  Its  decorated  walls 
were  adorned  with  mosaics  and  precious  stones. 
How  much  of  this  was  extant  when  St.  Louis  died? 
— strange  that  the  last  we  hear  of  Carthage  as  a 
city  is  when  that  crusade  ended  and  the  gentle 
King  yielded  his  soul  to  God. 

Leaving  the  ancient  city,  we  pass  onward  to 
the  village  of  Sidi-Bou-Saeed,  holy  to  the  Arabs, 
who  claim  that  here  St.  Louis  was  buried,  after 
having  been  converted  to  Islamism. 

The  town  is  the  white  village  one  sees  first 
from  the  sea,  and  is  perched  high  up  over  its 
gleaming  waters. 

Our  motor  puffs  and  groans  as  it  climbs  the 
steep  ascent,  landing  us  finally  at  the  lighthouse, 
whose  steady  flame  by  night  is  of  greater  benefit 
to  his  people  than  the  torch  of  the  prophet  ever 
was.  Our  return  route  to  Tunis  passes  the  ancient 
cisterns  of  Carthage,  still  in  use  and  most  useful 
to  the  surrounding  villages.  Not  far  beyond  are 
the  ruins  of  the  theatre — and  most  completely 
ruined  it  has  been — one  or  two  high  colimms  and 
the  seats  alone  remain  to  testify  to  its  former 
grandeur  and  size. 

In  Tunis  we  find  a  very  complete  garage  in 
connection  with  the  hotel,  and  are  shortly  in 
possession  for  the  tour,  as  it  turns  out,  not  only 
of  Tunisia  and  Algeria,  but  Spain  and  Southern 
France,  of  a  large,  dark  red,  Daracq  motor,  and 
well  it  served  us  throughout  all  the  thousands  of 
miles,  never  being  out  of  commission  for  more  than 


In  the  Park  of 


From  a  photograph  by  Geiser 

The  Garden  of  Allah" 


Motoring  167 

an  hour  or  two,  and  it  was  with  sincere  regret 
that  we  saw  it  finally  roll  off  at  Aries  and  vanish 
around  a  corner  on  its  run  to  Marseilles,  where  it 
embarked  for  Tunis, — but  that  is  months  ahead, 
so  let  us  return  to  the  day  we  engaged  it.  The 
agreement  is — and  I  give  it  here  for  the  sake  of 
those  who  may  desire  to  do  as  we  did — for  two 
weeks  to  Biskra  and  Algiers,  2500  francs,  the 
car  to  be  discharged  at  Algiers.  For  three  weeks, 
to  Biskra,  Algiers,  and  Oran,  3000  francs  and 
the  discharge  to  take  place  there.  We  do  not 
have  to  pay  for  its  return  to  Tunis.  This  makes 
it  more  expensive  than  in  France  where  I  had 
cars  several  times  for  $20  a  day,  everything  in- 
cluded except  the  board  and  lodging  of  the 
chauffeur,  which  was  not  included  in  this  Tunisian 
engagement. 

The  ancient  and — after  Mecca — most  holy  city 
of  Karaw^n  lies  to  the  south-west  of  Tunis,  some 
one  hundred  and  thirty-two  miles  distant.  We 
shall  visit  it  before  starting  on  the  long  tour  west- 
ward, making  a  leisurely  start  about  nine,  in  order 
to  lunch  at  Sousse,  one  hundred  and  fifty  kilos, 
and  have  the  afternoon  for  Karawan. 

The  motor  rolls  round  on  a  misty  morning,  and 
we  are  shortly  ensconced  and  gliding  off  through 
the  streets  of  Tunis.  The  route  lies  around  the 
bay  which  gleams  pale  green  and  opaline  against 
the  dark  mountains  beyond.  All  the  land  is 
blushing  into  life,  the  deHcate  green  of  meadows  is 
frosted   white  with    daisies,  and   yonder  golden 


1 68  Islam  Lands 

splotched  with  buttercups,  while  plum  and  pear 
and  almond  trees  wave  garlands  of  pink  and  white 
in  the  fresh  morning  air. 

Given  a  morning  in  spring  here  in  Tunisia,  and 
the  good  God  has  nothing  more  beautiful  to  be- 
stow upon  man.  The  world  is  young  and  full  of 
life,  and  life  seems  full  of  hope  and  worth  the 
living. 

As  we  roll  away  down  highroads  which  to  my 
amazement  are  superb,  our  rushing  car  does  not 
disturb  donkeys  and  comfortably  fat  Irish  ladies, 
nor  chickens  and  geese  as  in  France,  but  trains 
of  stately  camels  and  white-robed  Moors.  All 
stare  in  grand  amaze  for  a  moment  and  then  the 
camels  pick  up  their  skirts — so  to  speak — like  an 
old  maid  from  New  England  and  skip  away  as  she 
would  do  when  attacked  by  a  cow,  but  the  white- 
robed  Moors  scarcely  deign  to  move  aside  for 
our  rushing  infidel  invention,  and  the  glances  they 
do  bestow  upon  it  and  us  would  bode  ill  for  both 
were  the  power  there  to  enforce  their  wish,  but 
it  is  not.  The  strong  arm  of  France  protects  us, 
as  yonder  soldier  in  scarlet  indicates. 

Suddenly  in  a  bend  of  the  road  we  are  in  the 
midst  of  a  flock  of  sheep,  all  brown  and  white, 
driven  by  ntimerous  boys,  all  brown  and  white, 
the  former  as  to  fleece,  the  latter  as  to  clothing,  or 
I  should  say  draperies,  for  what  they  wear  is  not 
** clothing"  in  our  sense  of  that  word;  but  be  that 
as  it  may,  the  picture  before  us  is  worthy  the 
brush  of  a  great  painter, — the  brown  and  white 


Karawan  the  Holy  169 

sheep  and  brown  and  white  boys,  all  huddled  to- 
gether against  a  fair  green  meadow  daisy  spangled, 
while  behind  rise  the  blue  hills  to  a  bluer  heaven, 
over  which  white  clouds  are  dancing  in  the  cool 
fresh  air  of  morning. 

Soon  the  sea  is  nearer  to  us  and  we  rush  and 
sail  and  skim  along  its  shore  over  pebbly  beaches 
and  murmuring  waves,  until  Sousse  is  reached, 
lunch  eaten,  and  we  are  off  once  more  for  the 
sacred  city. 

A  vast  green  plain  is  crossed  and  inter-crossed 
by  hedges  of  prickly  pear,  with  here  and  there 
a  grove  of  trees  gnarled  and  twisted  with  an  age 
so  great  that  they  may  have  stood  here  when 
the  Nazarene  knelt  in  agony  under  like  trees  in 
Palestine.  Blooming  beds  of  asphodels  and  golden 
furze  splotch  the  nearer  foreground.  Palm  trees, 
and  apple  and  almond,  and  the  dainty  peach 
stand  grouped  all  around,  while  far  over  the  green 
plains,  with  the  sun  throwing  shafts  of  golden 
light  upon  it  and  guarded  by  one  stately  giralda, 
sparkles  a  white  domed  city,  with  dark  mountains 
brooding  behind  it,  Karawan  the  holy.  The 
prospect  as  we  near  its  walls  is  fair  indeed.  Will 
the  interest  abide  when  we  pass  them  or  vanish 
as  it  so  often  does  in  the  Orient?  It  appears  al- 
most to  rest  under  some  spell  of  enchantment,  so 
profound  is  the  silence  which  enfolds  it.  No  signs 
of  life  appear  in  all  the  land  around  it,  no  murmur 
of  human  existence  until  we  are  well  under  its 
walls.     I  can  scarcely  realise  that  we  may  and 


170  Islam  Lands 

shall  enter  this  city  of  Karawan,  for  Karaw^n  is, 
next  to  Mecca,  the  most  sacred  city  of  Islam  and 
pilgrimages  here  are  counted  next  in  saving  grace 
to  those  to  the  latter  city. 

Passing  onward  around  the  outer  walls  we  pause 
for  inspection  at  several  of  the  mosques  before 
entering  the  city.  The  most  interesting  because 
of  its  beautiful  tiling,  of  which  there  is  a  large 
quantity  both  in  the  mosque  proper  and  in 
the  adjoining  arcades,  is  that  of  the  Barber 
Abdallah. 

This  mosque,  the  Djemaat  es  Sehebi,  is  con- 
sidered the  most  important  building  of  Karawan. 
It  is  not  generally  believed  that  Abdallah  was  really 
the  barber  of  the  prophet,  but  rather  his  com- 
panion; the  legend  arose  from  his  having  been 
buried  with  three  hairs  from  the  prophet's  beard, 
one  under  his  tongue,  one  on  his  right  arm,  and 
the  third  next  his  heart. 

One  passes  through  several  courts,  all  decorated 
in  beautiful  blue  tiling,  with  roofs  and  arcades 
supported  by  delicate  marble  columns,  before 
entering  the  mosque,  where  sleeps  the  saint. 
His  catafalque  bears  a  black  velvet  pall,  heavily 
embroidered  in  gold  and  surrounded  by  a  high 
gilded  railing.  Our  feet  sink  into  beautiful  rugs 
and  the  light  filters  softly  downward  through 
small  windows  of  coloured  glass.  Small  lamps  of 
silver  and  ostrich  eggs  hang  around  everywhere. 
A  profound  peace  reigns  supreme,  broken  only, 
or  rather  intensified,  by  the  voice  of  a  student 


Mosque  of  the  Barber  171 

droning  the  Koran  from  a  cell  in  the  adjoining 
cloisters. 

Just  outside  the  door  as  we  leave  a  muezzin 
commences  his  mournful  summons  to  prayer. 

Times  must  be  changed  over  all  the  Orient.  I 
noticed  in  Egypt  but  one  muezzin  up  on  the  mina- 
rets, one  stood  on  the  steps  of  the  mosque  of 
Sultan  Hassan,  and  this  one  is  in  an  inner  court, 
while  the  white  tower  of  the  mosque  rises  un- 
tenanted above  him,  and  the  outer  world  is  none 
the  more  religiously  inclined  for  the  call,  which  is 
addressed  to  empty  walls,  saving  our  presence, 
of  which  he  seems  unconscious.  I  have  never 
before  been  so  near  one,  and  watch  and  listen 
with  interest.  He  stands  under  an  archway 
and  with  closed  eyes  gives  utterance  to  that  long 
wailing  cry  of  his  religion,  the  first  chapter  of  the 
Koran,  answered  to-day  by  the  cry  of  a  solitary 
dog. 

"In  the  name  of  Allah,  the  merciful,  the  compassionate ! 

Praise  be  to  Allah,  Sovereign  of  all  worlds. 

Who  giveth  Mercy, 

The  King  of  the  day  of  Faith. 

Thee  Lord,  we  worship,  of  Thee  we  implore  help, 

Guide  us  into  the  path  of  salvation, 

The  path  of  those  for  whom  Thy  loving  mercy  is  great. 

Of    those  who  have  not    deserved   Thy  wrath,  nor 

deviated  from  the  way. 
Amin,  O  Lord  of  Angels,  Djinns,  and  Men." 

As  his  voice  dies  away  his  head  sinks  upon  his 
breast    and    his    countenance   indicates — what? 


172  Islam  Lands 

I  have  long  since  realised  that  it  is  impossible  to 
determine  what  feelings  or  thoughts  are  hidden 
behind  the  masque-like  faces  of  the  Orient  but 
here  the  question  arises  too  strongly  to  be  ig- 
nored. Is  it  profound  religious  reverie  or  deepest 
despair  at  the  passing  of  his  faith? — for  passing  it 
must  be  when  the  unbeliever  can  safely  stand  in 
a  mosque  in  holy  Karawan. 

So  we  leave  him,  and  moving  roimd  the  outer 
walls  we  come  upon  a  quaint  structiu-e  built, 
strangely  to  relate,  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  and 
surmounted  by  seven  cupolas, — the  Mosque  of 
the  Sword,  so  called  because  of  several  huge 
wooden  swords  which  stand  around  the  tomb  of 
its  fotinder,  who  appears  noted  for  nothing  save 
their  construction. 

The  structure  is  quaint,  but  very  crude,  and 
with  the  great  mosque  still  to  be  visited,  we  do 
not  spend  much  time  there,  but  enter  the  city 
by  the  **Gate  of  the  Green  Gages**  and  are  at 
once  in  the  midst  of  an  Oriental  market.  While 
I  fear  if  one  understood  what  is  said  one  would 
not  feel  complimented  still  there  is  no  overt  act 
of  hostility,  only  curiosity  is  expressed,  more 
about  our  motor  than  ourselves,  and  it  was  a 
queer  sight,  that  juxtaposition  of  epochs.  All 
around  the  square  rose  the  white  buildings  of 
the  Oriental  city,  with  the  market  in  the  centre, 
the  whole  exactly  as  it  has  been  for  twelve  hundred 
years,  while  under  the  archway  of  the  Gate  of 
Green  Gages  puffed  our  red  motor.     For  a  mo- 


Market  of  Kara  wan  173 

ment,  our  power  being  shut  off,  there" is  absolute 
silence.  All  the  bubbling  noises  of  the  city  are, 
as  it  were  by  magic,  stopped.  The  whole  is  like 
a  picture  or  the  figures  of  a  dream,  but  the  spell 
passes  and  save  for  some  few  bowed  in  prayer, 
life  goes  on  again.  Against  the  white  walls 
camels  are  silhouetted;  the  humble  donkey  is 
not  missing  and  greets  us  in  the  name  of  his 
brethren  of  Khartoum — word  having  come  across 
the  desert.  There  are  the  sellers  of  sweetmeats 
and  soft  drinks,  and  the  vendors  of  tobacco. 
Yonder  is  a  snake  charmer  holding  aloft  a  cobra 
with  distended  hood.  Here,  nearer,  are  the  sellers 
of  carpets  with  their  goods  over  their  shoulders, 
heaps  of  fodder  piled  on  the  ground,  baskets  of 
red  chilles,  paniers  of  vegetables,  pottery  from 
Naples,  white-robed  Arabs  from  the  plains  with 
goats  for  sale,  city  dandies  in  robes  of  purple  or 
blue  over  white,  with  golden  turbans  and  yellow 
pointed  slippers,  pacing  majestically  about. 

Karawan  like  Bokhara  is  the  Orient  pure  and 
simple,  unadulterated  by  any  contact  with  the 
outer  world,  and  this  twentieth  century  holds 
few  such.  Bokhara,  Samark  and,  Fez,  and  Lhasa 
are,  with  Mecca  and  Karawan,  almost  all  that 
are  so,  unless  one  may  add  Medina,  which  I  have 
never  heard  described  by  any  traveller. 

Of  all  those,  this,  save  Mecca,  is  the  holiest, 
and  yet  we  enter  its  streets  and  mosques  to-day, 
and  its  people  do  not  appear  antagonistic.  These 
Moors  are,  of  all  the  Moslem  world,  the  most 


174  Islam  Lands 

stately;  perhaps  it  is  owing  to  their  white  robes 
and  burnouses.  Certainly  their  white  city  forms 
here  a  most  charming  and  attractive  backgrotmd 
for  their  artistic,  stately  figures. 

Yonder  comes  a  man  of  splendid  stature.  A 
regular  countenance,  with  great  black  eyes,  is 
crowned  by  a  white  turban.  His  long  white 
gown  opens  in  front  over  a  vestment  of  moss 
green,  and  he  wears  a  cloth  of  gold  aroimd  his 
neck. 

The  silent  and  deserted  country  around  the 
city  is  explained,  for  being  market-day  every 
Moor  is  here  at  trade. 

To-day  Karawan  is  the  second  city  of  Tunisia 
and  has  30,000  inhabitants. 

Eleven  hundred  years  ago  it  contained  thirty 
quarters  each  the  size  of  the  present  town — a  day 
was  necessary  to  cross  the  whole.  Each  child 
was  labeled  with  name  and  address  in  case  it  be- 
came lost.  It  is  claimed  that  the  city  measured 
eighteen  miles  in  every  direction  and  was  a  square. 
To-day  there  is  not  outside  the  present  walls  a 
vestige  of  any  of  this. 

In  the  streets  leading  to  the  great  mosque  are 
the  tombs  of  many  saints  and  Marabouts, — low, 
dirty,  and  neglected,  with  some  greasy  flags  stuck 
in  the  cracks,  but  amongst  them  one  may  find 
those  of  the  Aghlabites,  the  conquerors  of  Sicily, 
Sardinia,  Corsica,  and  Crete.  Here  also  is  the 
tomb  of  Schanoun,  the  great  theologian,  who  died 
in  A.D.  862.      As  we  pass  along   I  doubt  not 


Dirt  of  Karawan  175 

we  are  assailed  with  curses  on  all  sides, — de- 
sires that  our  names  be  not  inscribed  in  God's 
great  book  or  that  we  be  stricken  with  an  irritating 
disease.  They  do  not  wish  us  death,  that  would 
be  merciful. 

However,  I  think  that  curiosity  is  more  in  evi- 
dence than  hatred, — the  latter  will  keep  but  our 
red  motor  will  disappear  shortly  and  with  it  our 
possible  backsheesh. 

Karawan  is  as  dirty  as  all  other  Mohammedan 
towns.  The  people  are  filthy;  while  the  Koran 
commands  ablutions  before  prayer,  the  command 
does  not  appear  to  extend  to  the  cleansing  of 
the  hands  after  they  have  completed  the  former, 
and  this  is  rarely  if  ever  done,  hence  our  dislike 
to  be  touched  by  an  Arab.  As  for  their  clothing, 
save  for  some  few  here  and  there,  they  smell  aloud 
to  heaven,  and  the  garments  must,  like  those  in 
China,  come  down  from  generation  to  generation. 
I  remember  forbidding  my  guide  in  the  flowery 
kingdom  to  wear  a  certain  kimono. 

"But  sir,  it  belonged  to  my  great-grandfather." 

*' Exactly, — that  is  just  the  reason  why  I  cannot 
stand  it,  so  take  warning." 

In  Japan,  the  so-called  cleanly,  as  here,  where 
dirt  is  acknowledged,  in  fact  gloried  in,  I  defy 
any  Anglo-Saxon  to  remain  long  in  a  crowd,  and 
every  traveller  must  remember  the  nasty  condition 
of  the  Japanese  theatres. 

There  are  no  theatres  amongst  these  people, 
a  cafe  is  the  nearest  approach  to  such. 


17^  Islam  Lands 

The  walls  of  Karawan  were  commenced  forty 
years  after  the  death  of  Mohammed,  or  a.d.  672, 
and  completed  in  ninety-six  years.  The  greatest 
event  of  its  history  came  about  714  a.d.  Julian 
the  Apostate  invited  the  Arabian  Emir  to  invade 
Spain.  After  the  return  of  the  warrior  Tarik 
from  a  voyage  of  discovery  he  wrote  from  Karawan 
to  the  Khalifa  of  Damascus  describing  Spain  as 
**a  new  land  spreading  itself  out  for  conquest, 
equalling  Syria  in  fertility  and  climate,  Yemen  in 
temperature,  India  in  fruits  and  flowers,  Cathay 
in  precious  minerals,  an  inheritance  ready  for  the 
true  believer." 

"God  is  great,"  cried  the  Khalifa,  "and  Mo- 
hammed is  his  Prophet,"  and  authorised  the 
conquest. 

The  rest  is  the  history  of  Spain. 

How  beautifully  Irving  tells  it  from  the  landing 
and  burning  of  their  ships  throughout  all  the 
centuries  when  under  the  Moors  who  started  out 
from  this  silent  old  town  of  Karawan  Spain  at- 
tained a  magnificence  never  dreamed  of  since. 

Cordova  alone,  under  its  seventeen  sultans, 
waxed  and  waxed  until  in  the  eleventh  century 
it  held  three  hundred  mosques,  nine  hundred 
baths,  six  hundred  caravanseries ;  philosophers, 
poets,  physicians,  chemists,  astronomers,  mathe- 
maticians, engineers,  architects  flourished  amidst 
its  one  million  inhabitants.  Granada  held  half 
a  million,  its  palace  of  the  Alhambra  was  the 
marvel  of  the  age.     So  the  land  grew  and  prospered 


Conquest  of  Spain  177 

and  the  tide  of  conquest  swept  on  into  France, 
until  between  Tours  and  Poitiers  the  Moors  met 
and  were  defeated  by  Charles  Martel  in  the 
most  prodigious  and  solemn  battle  of  history, — 
a  battle  lasting  seven  days;  thereafter  came  the 
capture  of  Cordova  by  St.  Ferdinand,  and  the 
tide  of  Mohammedan  conquest  was  turned  and 
from  its  progress  towards  a  full  moon  the  crescent 
waned  tintil  all  that  is  left  of  the  Moorish  invasion 
of  Europe  is  a  few  bunches  of  keys  hanging  here 
in  Karawan,  keys  to  the  homes  abandoned  in 
Spain  and  which  the  faithful  fully  trust  to  Allah 
to  restore  to  them,  when  their  destiny  becomes 
fulfilled.  But  the  centuries  roll  by,  Allah  ap- 
pears to  have  forgotten,  and  in  his  holy  city 
the  infidel  enters  without  fear,  mounting  even 
as  we  have  done  to  the  tower  of  his  most  sacred 
mosque. 

Changed  indeed  are  the  days  in  Karawan. 
We  are  protected  to-day  by  the  soldier  of  the  same 
nation  which  turned  the  tide  at  Tours. 

The  traveller  through  Spain  to-day  cannot  but 
wonder  whether  the  re-conquest  by  Isabella  was 
not  more  of  a  curse  than  a  blessing.  If  that  great 
Queen  had  allowed  her  heart  and  her  noble  mind 
to  dictate  her  actions  one  must  believe  that  she 
would  have  been  all  merciful.  Realising  that  there 
is  good  in  every  one,  she  would  have  utilised  the 
Moorish  inhabitants  for  the  aggrandisement  of  her 
people  and  country ;  but  under  the  influence  of  an 
ignorant  and  bigoted  priesthood  all  was  changed 


178  Islam  Lands 

and  the  curtain  of  night  came  down  over  Spain, 
never  to  be  lifted. 

For  the  Queen  be  it  said  that  with  her  it  was 
*' better  the  loss  of  all  than  the  loss  of  the  soul,*' 
and  the  latter  she  believed  could  be  saved  only- 
through  the  Roman  Church,  hence  Torquemada, 
the  Inquisition,  and  the  stake,  leaving  Spain  what 
one  sees  it  to-day.  But  to  return  to  the  history 
of  Karaw^n. 


CHAPTER  XI 

The  Building  of  Karaw^n — Hucba — Growth  of  the  City — Its 
Great  Mosque — The  French  Renegade  Sidi  Hamet  and 
his  Tale — Legends  of  Karawan — Okhbah — Treasures 
from  Toledo— Farewell  to  the  City— The  City  of 
Sousse. 

THIS  famous  city  of  Cairaoan — Carven  and 
now — Karawan — was  founded  by  Hucba, 
who  came  with  an  army  from  the  deserts  of  Arabia 
sent  by  Hutman,  the  third  Mohammedan  KhaHfa. 

Carthage  had  vanished,  the  Romans  were  but  a 
memory.  Tunis,  the  successor  of  the  great  city, 
was  the  capital  of  the  land,  but  Hucba  insisted 
that  Tunis  was  too  near  the  sea,  and  that  no  army 
or  garrison  should  be  so  placed,  whereupon  he 
built  another  city  and  called  it  ''Cairaoan." 

To  Cairaoan  came  the  army  from  Tunis  and 
many  citizens  were  sent  to  people  the  new  town 
situated  as  the  crow  flies  one  hundred  miles  to 
the  south-west  of  Timis  and  about  thirty-six  from 
the  sea  at  Sousse. 

For  the  army  and  its  spoils  was  Karawan  built 
and  for  that  alone.  Hucba  surrounded  it  with 
almost  impregnable  walls  and  built  therein  the 
stately  temple  which  stands  perfect  to-day.    From 

179 


i8o  Islam  Lands 

over  the  hills  round  about  it  the  remains  of  the 
Roman  occupation  look  down  upon  the  Saracen 
city. 

Karawan  became  the  centre  for  the  study  of 
law. 

With  its  destruction  all  that  passed  away,  the 
place  never  regained  its  ancient  importance. 
To-day  it  is  the  dwelling  place  of  none  but  leather 
dressers  who  exchange  their  goods  for  European 
clothes.  Its  people  were,  until  the  French  arrived, 
subject  to  oppression  and  misery  by  the  kings  of 
Tunis. 

There  are  endless  surmises  as  to  the  origin  of 
the  name.  Dr.  Shaw  considers  it  as  identical 
with  Karwan  or  Caravan,  a  place  where  Arabs 
have  their  rendezvous.  In  Tripoli  the  common 
pronunciation  is  Keerw^n,  but  in  the  city  itself 
the  educated  natives  call  it  Karawan.  Let  us 
take  it  at  that. 

The  city  became  the  hotbed  of  the  most  bigoted 
of  the  Mohammedans,  their  most  sacred  town, 
where  the  Crescent  reigned  undividedly,  into  which 
no  minister  of  the  Gospel  penetrated  for  twelve 
hundred  years.  It  has  never  been  attacked  by 
Christian  troops,  no  Christian,  except  by  special 
favour,  was  allowed  to  enter  until  within  a  few 
years  back,  and  no  Jew,  so  that  it  has  remained 
pure,  as  to  its  contact  with  any  faith  save  that  of 
its  founder,  Hucba,  or  Okhbah.  To  it,  caravans 
came  from  all  over  Africa  to  breathe  in  its  holy 
atmosphere  and  pray  in  its  great  mosque,  whose 


A  Sealed  City  i8i 

stones  are  believed  by  the  faithful,  even  to-day, 
to  have  come  miraculously  and  placed  themselves 
in  the  spots  they  yet  occupy.  All  of  this  has 
retained  for  it  a  devotion  from  the  true  believers 
second  only  to  Mecca. 

It  was  not  until  in  the  seventies  that  the  Bey 
of  Tunis  began  to  grant  permits  to  enter,  and  very 
rarely  even  at  that  late  date.  But  that  permit  did 
not  insure  the  bearer  an  entrance;  he  was  halted 
miles  outside  the  walls  while  the  Governor  of  the 
city  in  solemn  conclave  with  his  council  considered 
the  permit.  If  his  entrance  was  granted  he  was 
attended  by  an  escort  during  his  stay;  his  life 
would  have  been  forfeited  otherwise,  and  in  short 
order.  But  even  the  guard  did  not  protect  him 
from  insults  and  he  was  urged  to  hasten  and  not 
look  too  closely  upon  the  holy  places. 

How  changed  are  the  days  in  Karaw^n.  Our 
red  motor  paused  but  an  instant  to  obtain  an 
unnecessary  permit  from  a  German  hotel-keeper 
who  gets  a  fee,  and  we  rolled  on,  objected  to,  so 
far  as  we  could  understand,  by  none. 

Inside  and  next  to  the  city  walls  is  a  wide  street, 
down  which  we  run  to  the  great  mosque.  It 
stands  in  the  north-east  angle  of  the  city,  off  and 
apart  as  though  too  holy  even  for  the  faithful 
to  dwell  near  unto  it.  A  high  level  wall  flanked 
by  massive  buttresses  encloses  it,  pierced  by  two 
domed- tower  gateways,  and  the  giralda  or  minar 
towers  majestically  above,  while  the  whole  is 
white  as  driven  snow. 


1 82  Islam  Lands 

To-day  one  may  enter  without  fear  the  great 
coiirtyard;  it  is  an  immense  quadrangle  with  the 
mosque  on  one  side  and  the  minar  facing  it  across 
the  court.  Above  the  mosque  rises  the  dome  of  the 
mihrab  or  holy  niche  towards  Mecca,  while  the 
minar  is  solid  and  imposing. 

The  great  mosque  is  in  size  almost  the  equal 
of  the  Jumma  Musjid  of  Delhi  and  its  hall  of 
many  columns  reminds  one  of  Cordova.  In  fact 
this  is  the  model  from  which  the  Spanish  structure 
was  made,  but  this  was  hoary  with  age  before  a 
Moor  entered  Spain.  They  are  vanished  for  ever 
from  there,  but  here  white-robed  figures  are  wor- 
shipping Allah  as  their  ancestors  have  done  for 
thirteen  hundred  years. 

You  will  notice  here  as  in  all  the  sections  of 
Africa  that  the  Moors  have  never  built  the  grace- 
ful minarets,  the  stately  minars,  or  square  towers, 
taking  their  place.  While  not  so  graceful  as  the 
former  they  are  more  in  keeping  with  Moorish 
architecture. 

The  absolute,  perfect  peace  of  such  a  spot  is, 
to  an  Occidental,  most  impressive.  It  is  deeper 
than  in  our  great  cathedrals. 

We  have  it  to  ourselves  save  for  half  a  dozen 
slowly  pacing  figures  who  pay  no  sort  of  attention 
to  us.  The  resemblance  of  the  mosque  at  Cordova 
to  this  is  confirmed  upon  entering  into  the  forest 
of  pillars. 

The  Spanish  mosque  however  must  have  been 
far  grander  in  its  prime,  but  architecturally  it  has 


The  Minar  183 

been  ruined  by  the  introduction  of  the  Christian 
church  in  its  centre. 

Here  at  Karawan  as  one  stands  at  the  holy  of 
holies  the  forest  of  pillars  stretches  away  unbroken 
on  all  sides  and  before  one,  until  lost  in  perspective. 
There  is  a  dim  light  over  the  whole  and  no  sound 
save  some  murmuring  prayers  and  the  fluttering 
of  doves  above  one. 

Such  is  the  shrine  of  Karaw^n,  the  tomb  of  its 
founder,  Okhbah  ibn  Aghlab,  and  the  chosen  spot 
for  sepulchre  by  the  kings  of  Tunis. 

One  ascends  the  great  tower  not  by  stairs  but 
inclines,  as  in  all  the  minars  here  and  in  Spain. 
Three  people  may  walk  abreast  and  the  journey 
is  not  tiresome,  so  that  one  arrives  at  the  summit 
in  condition  to  enjoy  the  panorama,  and  the 
muezzin  with  voice  for  his  call. 

I  think  this  form  of  tower  must  have  been  chosen 
in  preference  to  the  minarets  of  the  farther  east 
for  that  very  reason. 

The  day  is  perfect,  and  having  induced  our 
French  guide  to  hold  his  tongue,  we  enjoy  the 
wonderous  panorama  to  the  full. 

Below  is  spread  the  city,  whose  people,  shut  up 
for  all  those  centuries,  insensible  to  the  progress 
of  the  world,  have  no  ambition,  curiosity,  or  enter- 
prise, and  little  information.  On  the  tops  of  their 
white  houses,  in  the  midst  of  their  fair  green 
valley,  encircled  by  the  brooding  purple  mountains 
and  watched  over  by  the  drifting  clouds,  they  have 
dreamed  on  and  on,  content  from  generation  to 


1 84  Islam  Lands 

generation;  and  something  of  that  peace  and 
contentment  came  down  upon  us  as  we  entered 
the  portals  of  this  sacred  city,  even  though  we 
were  in  a  motor. 

•  But  how  can  a  live  mind  be  contented  here? 
And  yet  there  are  those,  certainly  one,  who  has 
deserted  the  religion  of  his  ancestors,  the  country 
of  his  birth,  and  coming  here  has  embraced 
Islamism,  never  leaving  this  dead-and-alive  city 
again.  He  was  alive  twenty  years  ago,  though 
now  he  may  have  exchanged  the  death  in  life 
for,  let  us  hope,  a  life  in  death,  and  a  quieter  spot 
over  yonder  on  the  green  plains.  He  was  French, 
though  known  here  as  Sidi  Hamet,  and  Rae  in  his 
visit  here  years  ago  had  a  talk  with  him,  or  rather 
listened  to  what  he  had  to  say. 

*'I  am  a  European,  French,  from  Normandy, 
where  my  family  still  live.  My  father  was  a 
banker  and  I  took  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Letters 
in  Paris,  afterward  entering  the  Monastery  of 
La  Trappe,  where  I  lived  three  years.  I  was  also 
at  La  Grande  Chartreuse.  I  cannot  describe  to 
you  how  those  years  shocked  and  uprooted  my 
faith  in  Christianity  and  Catholicism  or  how  great 
are  the  meanness,  the  hypocrisy,  the  imposture,  of 
such  a  system.  Sickened  and  disillusioned  with 
this  mockery  of  religion,  I  left  my  country  resolving 
to  seek  some  simpler,  ptirer  way  to  another  world. 

"  I  was  received  at  Tunis  by  the  Prime  Minister, 
who  himself  came  from  the  Greek  Church.  Under 
him  I  adopted  the  faith  of  Islam,  learned  Arabic, 


\  ■ .  v.i^ 


The  Renegade  185 

and  was  admitted  as  a  Mussulman.  I  came 
directly  here  to  Karawan  and  yours  is  the  first 
European  face  I  have  seen. 

"Determined  to  abandon  everything  that  could 
suggest  or  recall  the  past,  I  became  simply  and 
purely  a  Mussulman.  In  every  respect,  out- 
wardly and  inwardly,  I  am  that  now.  I  am  sur- 
rounded by  friends  who  have  given  me  evidences 
of  trust  and  affection  such  as  I  did  not  believe  the 
Arab  minds  capable  of.  My  happiness  is  con- 
sulted, and  I  see  around  me  examples  of  philosophy 
and  true  religion, — for  the  first  time  in  my  life 
I  know  what  true  happiness  is.  I  live  in  the  most 
absolute  calm  and  tranquillity  of  mind,  unruffled 
by  circumstances, — the  past  is  blotted  out;  all  I 
ask  for  the  present  is  peace.  My  life  is  to  me  the 
realisation  of  practical  philosophy.  I  have  no- 
thing to  disturb  the  peace  of  the  mind  or  the 
balance  of  the  intellect. 

"My  conversion  was  the  cause  of  astonishment 
to  many  and  each  one  endeavoured  to  invent  some 
motive  for  it.  According  to  one  it  was  the  fulfil- 
ment of  ambition.  But  where  is  there  room  for 
ambition  in  Karawan  ?  According  to  another  I  was 
attracted  by  the  sensual  features  of  the  social  life, 
but  I  had  made  a  vow  of  chastity  and  poverty.'* 
Here  he  added  what  rather  upsets  one's  belief  in 
his  "vow."  "Should  I  be  offered  a  wife  I  would 
not  refuse  one,  but  I  want  neither  riches  nor 
pleasure.  I  want  the  philosophical  enjoyment 
of  a  quiet  spirit." 


1 86  Islam  Lands 

* '  Rae  asked  him  whether  he  found  in  the  Mussul- 
man faith  any  higher  inspiration  than  in  that  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

"I  do  not, — it  is  in  the  practice  of  their  faith 
that  the  Christians,  in  my  own  land  at  least,  fall 
short  as  compared  with  Mussulmans, — the  im- 
posing extravagances  which  have  grown  up  under 
the  auspices  of  the  priesthood  in  France  have 
rendered  the  worship  of  Christ  a  theatrical  mock- 
ery. The  influence  established  by  ignorant  and 
intriguing  men  over  the  minds  of  their  flocks  is 
unjustifiable  and  the  result  mere  superstition. 

"  In  the  Koran  there  is  sufficient  to  take  a  man 
to  heaven,  if  he  follows  its  precepts  and  his  own 
conscience." 

Rae  asked  if  he  had  no  regret  for  those  he  left 
behind. 

"None  whatever,  nor  any  interest  in  that  outer 
world.  I  will  not  for  anything  risk  the  distraction 
of  my  thoughts  or  the  absorbing  of  my  interest. 
I  only  ask,  should  you  ever  write  an  account  of 
your  travels  here,  that  you  will  send  me  a  copy  of 
your  book." 

As  I  gaze  out  over  the  slumbering  city  where 
that  man  lived  and  may  still  be  living,  I  wonder 
what  was  the  real  cause  which  drove  him  here, — 
certainly  there  was  much  which  he  did  not  tell. 
He  has  probably  by  now  carried  his  secret  imder 
some  low  green  tent  "whose  curtains  never  out- 
ward swing,"  this  "Renegade  of  Karaw^n."  But 
to  return  to  the  city's  history. 


Okhbah  187 

When  Okhbah-ibn-Nafi  had  decided  to  build  it 
he  led  his  people — among  whom  were  eighteen 
companions  of  the  prophet — to  this  spot,  then,  it 
is  said,  in  a  deep  forest. 

''What,"  they  cried,  "would  you  make  a  city 
of  the  heart  of  a  trackless  forest,  where  wild 
beasts  and  snakes  abound?" 

Then  he  cried  aloud,  ''  O  ye  serpents  and  savage 
beasts,  know  that  we  are  the  companions  of  God's 
prophet ;  withdraw  from  the  spot  we  have  chosen." 

Whereupon  the  people  saw  the  wonderful  sight 
of  an  army  of  fleeing  wild  beasts  and  serpents 
carrying  their  young.  For  forty  years  after 
neither  snake  nor  scorpion  was  found  here. 

Did  St.  Patrick  ever  hear  of  Okhbah?  Is  there 
any  tradition  of  the  Christian  Church  which  has 
not  its  parallel  in  some  other  faith? 

Marking  the  site  of  the  city  Okhbah  made 
prayers  to  God  for  its  peace,  prosperity,  and 
safety. 

This  mosque  was  first  constructed,  and  where 
to  place  the  Kibleh  became  a  matter  of  grave 
consideration,  until  Okhbah  was  warned  in  a 
dream  to  take  the  holy  standard  and  follow  a 
voice  which  he  alone  should  hear  and  where  it 
guided  there  to  build  the  holy  of  holies.  This 
he  did  and  so  the  matter  was  settled  and  that  spot 
remains  sacred  to  this  day.  The  mosque  has  been 
reconstructed  many  times,  but  all  have  spared 
that  holy  spot  which  remains  to-day  as  Okhbah 
built  it.     The  last  work  was  done  more  than  one 


i88  Islam  Lands 

thousand  years  ago,  during  which  time  the  struc- 
ture of  the  whole  has  never  been  touched. 

Though  Karawan  never  was  as  richly  endowed 
as  the  Spanish  mosques,  still  its  treasures  were  of 
great  value.  Amongst  them  were  twenty-five 
crowns  of  the  Gothic  kings — brought  from  Toledo 
— of  pure  gold  and  encrusted  with  jewels.  Also 
from  Medina  Coeli  a  table  which  had  formed 
part  of  the  spoils  taken  from  Rome  by  Alaric  the 
Goth.  It  was  formed  by  a  single  emerald  and 
possessed  of  talismanic  properties  and  wrought  by 
a  genii  for  King  Solomon  the  wise.  There  was 
also  a  cup  of  a  single  pearl  from  the  Temple  at 
Jerusalem.  Then  from  Toledo  was  brought  the 
table  whereat  Christ  sat  with  his  apostles, — it  was 
covered  with  pure  gold  and  adorned  with  precious 
stones,  and  was  worth  half  a  million  of  ducats. 
This  also  was  brought  to  Karawan  by  Musa,  but 
who,  I  wonder,  thought  enough  of  it  at  the  time  to 
preserve  it  in  that  chamber  without  the  walls  of 
Jerusalem  where  those  simple  fishermen  and  the 
Nazarene  held  that  solemn  feast?  Where  was 
it  during  the  centuries  which  intervened  before 
its  appearance  in  Toledo  and  where  is  it  now? 

Karawan  is  a  proof  that  Moorish  prosperity 
was  not  real,  that  it  was  not  founded  upon  any- 
thing which  could  endure.  These  Orientals  of 
to-day  make  no  progress,  they  are  as  they  were 
in  the  days  of  the  prophet.  One  sees  none  of  the 
magnificence  told  of  in  Spain.  Therefore,  what 
caused  it  there?    Was  it  the  contact  withi  northern 


History  of  Karawan  189 

races,  especially  the  Jewish?  It  would  so 
appear. 

With  the  return  to  Africa  the  history  of  this 
people  is  steadily  downward,  every  advance  they 
had  made  in  Spain  was  lost;  the  pastoral  life  of 
the  Bible  returned.  Karawan  endured  seige  after 
siege,  all  the  time  descending  the  scale  of  adversity ; 
despotic  sultans  ruled  over  her;  murder  and  torture 
were  her  daily  portion;  crucifixion  was  common. 
One  ruler,  Ibrahim-ibn-Ahmed,  having  lost  his 
napkin,  put  to  death  three  hundred  servants, 
continuing  the  slaughter  amongst  his  wives  and 
children  until  most  of  them  were  tortured  and 
burnt.  His  grandson,  Ziadet  Allah,  murdered  all 
his  family  including  his  father,  and  himself  died 
by  poison. 

The  Moorish  historian  closes  this  account  with, 
*^God  alone  is  eternal,"  but  all  these  horrors  were 
no  worse  than  those  of  the  same  period  in  Spain, 
in  the  name  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 

The  glory  of  Karawan  was  like  unto  a  dying 
fire:  now  it  flames  out  and,  under  the  first  of  the 
Green  Khalifas,  Tripoli,  Lombardy,  Genoa,  and 
Sicily  are  captured. 

Then  came  Robert  of  Sicily  who  wisely  divided 
the  power  of  that  island,  establishing  equal  faiths 
and  rights,  causing  the  first  real  union  between 
the  Cross  and  Crescent,  but  the  glory  of  Karawan 
steadily  decreased ;  the  cradle  and  shrine  of  Islam 
in  Africa  began  to  pass  away  and  its  history  ends 
about  the  same  period  as  the  close  of  the.  Saxon 


190  Islam  Lands 

dynasty  of  England.  As  I  gaze  outward  from  the 
giralda  of  the  great  mosque  over  the  low  roofs  and 
green  meadows  towards  the  eternal  hill,  to  my 
ears  comes  the  call  filling  all  the  heavens  above, 
''God  is  great,  God  alone  is  great." 

As  we  pass  outward  some  pigeons  are  making 
the  prostrations  high  up  on  the  great  tower. 
Having  been  made  by  Allah  the  holiest  of  birds, 
they  never  forget  it  and  throughout  the  world 
you  will  find  that  they  are  true  to  the  faith  of 
Islam. 

With  a  last  look  at  Karawan's  stately  mosques 
and  picturesque  people  we  turn  away  and  a  swift 
run  brings  us  again  to  Sousse,  where  we  pass  the 
night. 

History  was  once  made  fast  and  furious  in  this 
nowadays  quiet  town.  Her  blue  bay  has  borne 
ships  of  Rome  and  Carthage;  Hannibal  and 
Caesar  have  both  landed  here.  The  chariots  of 
the  Imperial  City  and  the  elephants  of  the  southern 
capital  have  crowded  the  spaces  before  this  little 
hotel,  where  one  now  sees  a  few  donkeys  and  camels 
and  watches  white  sails  gliding  to  the  distant 
fisheries. 

To-night  the  sky  is  a  splendour  behind  the  old 
white  town.  Domes  and  towers  sparkle  in  the 
magic  light,  and  then  the  day  perishes  silently 
and  of  its  own  glory,  and  we  turn  to  sleep  and  to 
dream  of  ghostly  cities  and  white-robed  people. 


CHAPTER  XII 

Start  from  Tunis — The  Ruins  of  Dougga — Souk-el- Arba — 
The  Run  to  B6ne — The  Cork  Forests — Hammam-Mes- 
koutine  and  its  Legends — Constantine — The  Route  to 
Biskra — Gorge  of  El-Kantara — Biskra  and  the  Life 
there — Ancient  Sidi  Okba  and  its  People — The  Great 
and  the  Little  Garden  of  Allah. 

WE  start  from  Tunis  for  the  long  run  to  Oran  at 
seven  A.M.  on  a  brilliant  sparkling  morning, 
and  it  is  joyous  to  be  en  route  through  the  rushing 
winds  and  over  the  green  country.  Tunisian 
highways  are  superb  and  the  wings  come  out  on 
our  wheels  in  short  order.  Motors  are  not  plenti- 
ful in  this  southern  land,  hence  we  have  no  dust, 
neither  are  the  roads  as  yet  destroyed  by  them. 

Our  route  lies  over  the  valleys  and  through 
white  Moorish  villages,  while  here  and  there  the 
low  black  tents  of  the  Bedouins  dot  the  green 
fields.  The  population  is  sparse  and  the  highways 
almost  empty.  One  wonders  why  so  much  time 
and  money  should  have  been  spent  on  them  when 
there  seems  little  use  for  them  to  the  present  time 
unless  it  be  for  military  purposes.  Certainly 
there  is  but  Httle  traffic  and  as  I  have  said  the  mul- 
titude of  motorists  have  not  discovered  the  land  as 

yet,  though  they  will  erelong  and  so  find  out  that 

191 


192  Islam  Lands 

it  is  a  land  built  for  them  as  it  were.  Indeed  in 
no  other  way  can  it  be  explored.  The  rails  run 
only  to  the  principal  towns  and  to  drive  to  the 
many  points  of  interest  would  be  impossible  as 
the  distances  are  too  great  and  there  are,  so  far, 
few  rest  houses  or  inns  save  in  the,  large  towns. 
(It  is  of  course  impossible  to  put  up  with  or  in  an 
Arab  house — better  a  bed  in  the  open  fields.) 

We  have  an  example  of  this  to-day.  The  ruins 
of  Dougga  are  some  fifty  miles  from  Tunis,  reached 
in  two  hours  by  motor  but  with  nothing  but  a 
wretched  Arab  town  there,  no  place  to  stop,  and 
so  inaccessible  to  horses,  unless  relays  were  used, 
and  there  are  no  posts  for  that. 

Dougga,  though  a  ruined  city  of  great  interest 
and  extent,  is  not  even  mentioned  in  Murray's  last 
Guide  to  Timisia,  1891,  which  shows  how  little 
was  known  about  the  ancient  life  and  places  of 
the  land.  A  new  guide-book  is  badly  needed, — one 
such  as  Murray  always  gives. 

Dougga,  the  ancient  Thugga  of  the  Romans, 
stands  high  on  a  hill  overlooking  a  fertile  valley. 
As  we  approach,  the  extent  of  the  quaint  city  is 
plainly  to  be  seen,  but  the  modem  Arab  town 
through  which  one  passes  is  so  dirty  and  smelly 
that  enthusiam  is  subjected  to  a  cold  bath. 

However,  that  being  past,  the  ruins  are  of  great 
interest.  There  is  the  theatre,  and  aqueducts, 
and  yonder  a  beautiful  temple  of  Jupiter  and 
Minerva.  What  an  elegant  portico,  how  stately 
those  columns,  and  how  graceful  the  whole.     How 


Ruins  of  Dougga  193 

could  even  a  barbarian  have  the  heart  to  destroy 
it,  yet  Dougga  furnishes  a  most  flagrant  example 
that  destruction  is  not  confined  to  barbarians. 
Only  sixty  years  ago,  a  mausoleum,  built  by 
some  Numidian  who  died  before  our  era,  stood  in 
almost  perfect  condition.  It  held,  on  two  stones, 
a  remarkable  bi-lingual  inscription  in  the  Libyan 
and  Punic  tongues,  the  only  known  example  in 
Northern  Africa. 

In  1842,  Sir  T.  Reade,  the  then  H.  B.  M. 
Consul-General  at  Tunis,  obtained  permission  to 
remove  these  stones.  It  was  done,  but,  instead  of 
looking  after  the  work,  and  sparing  the  structure, 
he  entrusted  it  to  ignorant,  clumsy  Arabs,  who 
demolished  the  mausoleum.  The  stones  are  in 
the  British  Museum, — of  the  mausoleum  only  a 
few  steps  now  remain. 

There  is  great  work  in  excavating  yet  to  be  done 
in  Dougga.  As  we  walk  over  the  hill,  its  ruins 
crop  up  thickly  all  around  us,  but  the  day  passes 
and  we  enter  the  motor  and  move  on,  leaving  the 
dead  city  to  the  Arab  dogs  just  now  howling  a 
noisy  requiem  all  over  it. 

We  hold  a  flying  course  over  valleys  and  moun- 
tains to  Souk-el- Arba,  which  is  two  hundred  kilo- 
metres from  Tunis,  and  where  we  have  luncheon. 

From  there,  on  to  Bone,  the  route  runs  north 
over  the  mountains,  through  groves  of  cork  and 
other  trees,  and  over  magnificent  highways,  and 
again  one  wonders  why  such  roads  were  necessary 
in  Timis.  In  France  they  would  seem  to  be  the 
13 


194  Islam  Lands 

result  of  an  ancient  civilisation,  but  here,  France 
is  but  a  newcomer  and  yet  these  roads  are  equal  to 
any  in  that  republic.  They  are  not  on  Roman 
foimdations,  but  entirely  new,  and  more  are  being 
constructed  each  year.  For  instance  on  the  nin 
to  B6ne  it  would  seem  that  one  perfect  and  cer- 
tainly costly  road  would  answer  all  purposes  for 
a  century,  but  not  at  all,  another  is  being  built. 

Through  these  mountains  the  sad  blue  grey  of 
the  olive  groves  is  relieved  by  coimtless  fruit 
trees  in  blossom, — almond,  cherry,  apple,  peach, 
and  pear  cast  delicate  shades  of  colour  over  the 
more  sombre  backgrounds,  while  bright- eyed  lads 
are  gathering  the  flowering  narcissus  from  the 
green  fields  by  the  way. 

This  is  the  African  Riviera,  as  we  discover 
when  the  summit  of  the  mountains  being  passed 
the  glory  of  sea  and  land  spreads  out  in  a  beautiful 
panorama.  The  waters  are  blue  as  sapphire  and 
the  cliffs  are  abrupt  and  fantastic. 

B6ne,  a  comfortable  city  where  we  spend  the 
night,  is  not  of  interest,  but  a  delightful  run  with 
beautiful  weather  brings  us  in  one  hundred  kilo- 
metres to  Hammam-Meskoutine,  a  lovely  nook 
in  the  motmtains  where  the  hot  waters  have 
produced  a  delightful  spot.  The  hotel  and  its 
surroundings  remind  me  of  a  spot  in  Java,  Garroet. 
The  little  hotel  spreads  around  in  one-storied 
arcades  and  is  sheltered  by  an  immense  and 
beautiful  tree  one  thousand  years  old. 

The  legend  tells  us  of  an  Arab  who,  rich  and 


3' 

< 

a 


Legends  195 

powerful,  once  lived  here,  loved  his  sister,  and 
considered  her  too  beautiful  to  marry  any  man 
save  himself.  Notwithstanding  the  Mohammedan 
law  and  the  supplications  of  his  elders,  whose 
heads  he  cut  off  in  front  of  his  tent,  he  commenced 
the  marriage  festivities.  As  the  accursed  couple 
were  about  to  retire,  the  elements  interfered.  Fire 
and  water,  thunder  and  lightning,  roared  and  hissed 
and  glared  about  them.  When  the  storm  was 
over,  each  and  every  man  and  woman  at  the  feast, 
bride,  bridegroom,  and  all,  were  found  petrified, 
and  you  may  see  yonder  the  entire  company. 
That  collection  of  cone-shaped  rocks  does  look  like 
an  assembly  of  veiled  figures  commanded  to  re- 
main just  there  for  ever;  the  other  formations  are 
of  the  same  character  as  those  of  our  Yellowstone 
Park  at  the  Giant's- Staircase.  On  the  whole  we 
find  the  place  depressing  and  even  its  comfortable 
and  clean  hotel  does  not  keep  us. 

Another  ninety-eight  kilometres  brings  us  to 
Const antine.  The  ride  over  the  mountains  is 
bleak  and  dreary,  like  that  toward  Teheran  in 
North  Persia ;  the  people  seem  very  poor,  and  I  am 
told  are  so,  as  the  crops  have  failed  for  two  or 
three  years. 

Again  I  am  reminded  of  some  connection  with 
the  inhabitants  of  Western  Ireland.  Yonder  man 
asleep  in  the  dust  could  pass  for  a  son  of  the  Emer- 
ald Isle,  and  the  resemblance  is  more  striking  when 
he  wakes  up.  Our  car  rolls  over  a  bridge  and  into 
the  narrow  main   street   of   Constantine   where 


196  Islam  Lands 

Toma  manages  to  break  some  part  of  the 
mechanism  which  necessitates  a  delay  of  a  day 
in  the  H6tel  de  Paris — run  by  a  very  comfortable 
landlady  who  does  not  allow  Monsieur  any  fruit 
for  dinner  and  no  dinner  at  all  if  he  is  late  for  it. 
What  *s  the  good  of  a  husband  if  you  cannot 
do  as  you  desire  with  him?  The  location  of 
Constantine  is  very  fine,  perched  high  up  on  her 
cliffs,  but  as  all  the  sewerage  of  a  very  dirty  popu- 
lation pours  down  their  face  our  only  desire  is  to 
get  away  and  as  soon  as  possible  we  are  en  route 
to  Biskra. 

Our  route  lies  over  the  mountains  directly 
southward,  vast  stretches  of  yellow  mountains, 
lonely  and  sombre  against  a  blue  sky,  with  here  and 
there  pale  green  meadows  over  which  trains  of 
camels  and  turbaned  Arabs  make  stately  progress. 
Many  storks,  pondering  deeply  the  questions  of 
the  stork  world,  are  perched  the  while  on  some 
Arab  huts,  and  even  high  on  the  cross  of  a  church, 
where,  as  we  saw  lately,  they  had  succeeded  in 
attaching  a  huge  nest. 

Last  night's  storm  and  cold  have  deposited  a 
capping  of  snow  on  all  the  higher  mountains  and 
the  air  rushes  around  and  through  us,  cold  and 
life  giving. 

Gradually  as  we  roll  southward  the  scene 
changes,  until  finally  from  the  crest  of  a  hill  the 
great  Sahara  lies  spread  out  before  us. 

The  difference  between  this  panorama  and  the 
one  left  behind  us  is  most  marked  yet  difficult  to 


El-Kan  tara  197 

describe.  Those  were  barren  yellow  mountains, 
but  these  are  desert  mountains  and  there  is  a 
certain  indescribable  lonely  grandeur  about  them 
peculiar  to  their  kind.  They  seem  to  have 
withdrawn  themselves  into  themselves,  to  stand 
apart  as  it  were,  while  between  roll  the  waves  of 
that  vast  ocean  of  sand  which  stretches  eastward 
to  the  Nile,  westward  to  the  Atlantic,  and  south 
until  the  jungles  of  tropical  Africa  claim  the  earth. 
The  whole  prospect  is  of  a  peculiar  golden  brown. 
On  those  other  mountains  life  exists  in  patches, 
here  before  us  no  life  has  ever  existed,  nor  will 
while  time  lasts,  no  matter  what  efforts  man  may 
make,  and  in  gazing  on  those  billows  of  sand  one 
instinctively  listens  for  the  roar  of  moving  waters, 
but  this  is  the  desert  where  silence  and  God  keep 
tryst  and  nothing  moves  lest  a  word  be  lost. 

As  our  route  approaches  the  Gorge  of  El-Kantara 
the  mountains  assume  grander  and  more  rugged 
outlines.  As  the  gateway  to  the  desert  and  its 
rich  oasis  this  was  an  important  post  of  Rome, 
and  here,  as  the  inscriptions  prove,  was  quartered 
a  portion  of  the  third  Augustan  Legion,  and  an 
ancient  Roman  bridge  still  spans,  with  a  massive 
single  arch,  the  rushing  river.  The  gorge  itself, 
a  veritable  gateway  in  the  mountains,  is  but  some 
one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  wide  by  nine  hundred 
feet  long.  On  either  hand  the  cliffs  tower  ma- 
jestically above  us  while  the  river  rushes  and 
roars  beneath.  The  place  is  shadowy  and  som- 
bre, but  as  we  approach  the  southern  entrance, 


198  Islam  Lands 

it  widens  out  like  a  funnel  and  frames  a  charming 
prospect.  The  brawling  stream  flows  away  before 
us,  bordered  on  either  side  by  an  ocean  of  palms, 
— ^fifteen  thousand  date  palms  wave  and  glitter  in 
the  stmlight.  Here  are  the  oranges,  mulberries, 
apricots,  and  apples  all  blossoming  together. 
Quaint  Arab  houses  add  to  the  prospect,  while 
stately  yellow  mountains  under  a  deep  blue  sky 
enclose  the  whole.  As  we  pass  by  the  river  we 
note  that  the  women  on  its  banks  are  unveiled. 
Along  almost  the  entire  route  to-day,  we  have 
noticed  Roman  remains,  though  not  of  importance. 

From  here  onward  the  highway  is  hard  and 
firm  and  winds  serpent-like  over  mile  after  mile, 
imtil  one  feels  lost  in  the  utter  desolation,  and 
fervently  prays  that  the  motor  may  not  break 
down.  Ours  does  not,  but  moves  onward  through 
the  grand  air  and  glittering  sunshine,  until  on 
rounding  the  shoulder  of  a  moimtain  the  fair  oasis 
of  Biskra  lies  spread  out  before  us,  an  emerald  in 
a  setting  of  gold,  202  kilos  from  Const  ant  ine. 

Biskra,  in  our  first  view  of  it,  seems  but  a  small 
splotch  of  green  in  the  yellow  desert,  which  from  our 
point  upon  the  mountains  rolls  away  in  its  vastness 
southward,  eastward,  and  westward.  Biskra  is,  in 
fact,  but  a  "splotch,"  being  but  three  miles  long, 
and  a  mile  in  width.  It  would  seem  that  one  might 
easily  miss  it  on  a  dark  night,  and  one  shudders  to 
think  of  such  a  catastrophe,  and  urges  the  motor 
onward  as  the  day  is  ending  and  the  desert  is 
already  full  of  shadows. 


Biskra  199 

Fortunately  for  us  we  could  not  get  rooms  at  the 
Royal  Hotel,  but  were  directed  to  a  small  hostelry, 
the  Oasis,  which  proves  a  much  more  agreeable 
abiding-place.  It  faces  a  beautiful  garden,  and 
near  by  is  a  public  square  or  park,  a  perfect  bower 
of  trees  and  shrubs,  where  I  linger  many  hours 
doing  just  nothing  at  all,  and  enjoying  my  work 
immensely. 

On  one  side  of  the  square,  a  little  Catholic 
chapel  nestles  amongst  the  palms,  and  when  the 
day  is  too  hot  or  the  odour  from  the  mimosa 
threatens  one's  brain  with  vsleep,  one  may  enter 
and  be  at  rest,  with  no  company  save  the  twinkling 
lights  before  the  Virgin's  shrine. 

Across  the  square,  beneath  the  arches  of  an 
arcade  is  a  cafe,  occupied  by  soldiers  in  scarlet  uni- 
forms and  Moors  in  white  burnouses.  Evidently 
the  latter  have  forgotten  the  Koran's  injunction 
as  to  wine,  and  the  use  thereof  by  those  of  the 
faith,  for  yonder  Moors  are  drinking  the  fruit  of 
the  vine  or  I  am  much  mistaken. 

We  have  not  had  the  car  out  at  all  to-day.  The 
chauffeur  deserves  his  day  off  and  it 's  a  relief  to 
shut  it  up  now  and  then.  However,  it  opens  up 
Tunis  and  Algeria  as  those  lands  would  not  be  in 
any  other  way.  One  sees  nothing  of  the  land 
from  the  trains,  while  stages  and  carriages  are 
almost  prohibited  by  the  distances,  the  heat,  and, 
in  this  section,  the  howling  winds,  against  which 
no  horse  can  stand.  I  cannot  imagine  a  greater 
torture  than  an  attempt  to  cover  the  two  hundred 


200  Islam  Lands 

kilos  between  here  and  Constantine  by  horse  con- 
veyance, while  by  motor  it  is  delightful  and  the 
road  for  the  most  part  good.  It  would  be  a 
stupid  ride  by  train. 

In  a  small  hotel  like  ours  one  becomes  interested 
in  every  one  around.  Yonder  are  two  American 
women  who  to-morrow  at  four  a.m.  will  climb  into 
a  wretched  diligence  crowded  with  Arabs  and  for 
two  days  of  eighteen  hours  each  will  crawl  south- 
ward over  the  desert  toward  Tuggurt,  enduring 
the  blinding  heat,  the  choking  sand-storms,  the 
dirty  smelly  Arabs,  in  order  to  see  what  they  call 
the  "real  desert."  To  any  one  familiar  with 
deserts  it's  all  nonsense,  of  course,  as  one  can  go 
five  miles  from  Biskra  and  be  as  really  in  the  "real 
desert"  as  a  hundred  would  take  one.  Still,  man 
has  different  methods  of  enjoyment,  so  good  luck 
go  with  them. 

There  is  much  commotion  just  now  amongst 
the  French  officers  who  dine  here.  Yonder 
party  of  four  seem  to  be  very  happy  and  com- 
placently eating  their  dinner  while  those  near  us 
are  indignant  over  something  which  both  the 
proprietor  and  white-capped  cook  are  unable 
to  explain  away.  It  turns  out  that  a  specially 
selected  dinner  composed  of  game  sent  by  friends 
has  been  by  mistake  served  the  other  party  and  is 
by  now  all  eaten  up.     Comment  is  imnecessary. 

To-day  I  met  in  the  park  a  young  man  who  came 
here  four  months  ago  from  Marseilles,  hoping  that 
the  warm  air  and  stm  would  restore  the  health 


A  Lost  Dinner  201 

which  the  mistrals  of  his  native  town  had  well- 
nigh  destroyed.  So  he  has  sat  in  this  lonely  little 
park  for  months  and  must  remain  two  months 
more,  all  the  time  watching  himself.  Could  any- 
thing be  more  desolate?  I  could  not  endure 
Biskra  if  I  did  not  know  I  could  leave  when  I 
desired. 

How  intensely  lonely  it  is  to-day !  Above,  the 
sun  sends  down  a  yellow  glare  which  only  the 
palm  trees  render  tolerable,  but,  penetrate  beyond 
their  green  gloom,  and  you  will  be  greeted  by  the 
wildest  of  winds  blowing  the  sands  of  the  desert 
into  clouds  and  causing  all  the  prospect  to  assume 
a  sad  grey  tone.  The  palms  appear  to  be  an  im- 
passable barrier  to  these  storms,  but  just  listen  to 
it,  even  from  here  how  it  moans  and  sobs  as 
though  all  the  lost  of  all  the  ages  had  been  sum- 
moned to  judgment — and  this  poor  boy  has  sat 
here  with  his  head  in  his  hands  for  months  listening 
to  that  moan.  Could  you  endure  it,  is  life  worth 
it? 

On  the  whole  Biskra  is  a  much  overrated  spot. 
To  those  who  know  the  Orient  its  interest  is  almost 
nil,  and  the  howling  winds  which  blow  five  days 
out  of  the  seven  make  it  generally  a  very  dis- 
agreeable spot.  When  the  winds  are  at  their 
height  no  one  ventures  beyond  the  belt  of  palm 
trees,  as  to  do  so  would  undoubtedly  mean  great 
discomfort  and,  on  "high  days,"  danger  of  death 
from  suffocation. 

The  journey  here  in  an  automobile  is  pleasant, 


202  Islam  Lands 

but  unless  this  is  your  only  opportunity  of  seeing 
such  a  spot  or  your  health  demands  this  climate,  I 
should  not  recommend  it.  For  those  who  suffer 
from  bronchitis  or  other  throat  trouble  the  place 
is  intolerable. 

As  for  the  natives  they  are  intensely  disagreeable. 
You  may  have  undergone  the  comparatively  mild 
curiosity  of  the  Egyptians,  but  you  certainly, 
unless  you  have  been  here,  have  never  experienced 
the  sticking  curiosity  of  these  people.  As  they 
all  vSpeak  French  it  is  impossible  to  escape  them. 
I  do  not  refer  to  the  beggars,  one  expects  such  from 
them,  but  from  every  man  and  boy  in  the  town  who 
has  nothing  to  do,  and  the  majority  of  them  are 
so  employed,  you  may  expect  it.  If  two  persons 
seat  themselves  in  the  park  they  may  be  sure  before 
long  to  have  a  black  face  thrust  between  them 
whose  owner  joins  in  the  conversation  and  can 
scarcely  be  driven  away — there  is  a  slang  phrase 
which  I  must  be  pardoned  for  using  as  it  exactly 
describes  the  act,  viz.,  ^'butting  in."  The  term 
must  have  been  discovered  here.  You  are  not 
safe  from  it  for  an  instant  outside  your  own  room. 

As  for  the  beggars,  the  French  government  might 
take  example  from  the  English  in  Egypt.  In  that 
land  once  famous  for  them  one  passes  now  almost 
unaccosted.  Placards  are  placed  in  all  the  public 
places  and  conveyances  asking  the  co-operation 
of  the  traveUing  public  in  suppressing  the  pest  by 
not  giving  alms,  and  the  success  has  been  very 
great.     Here    the    beggars    are    as    plentiful    as 


Beggars  203 

formerly  in  Spain  and  quite  as^  persistent.  In 
fact  we  discover  a  month  later  that  they  are 
much  more  so. 

The  landlady  of  our  hotel  tells  me  that  they 
disappear  absolutely  with  the  tourist  season, 
that  one  beggar  in  a  family  supports  the  whole 
lot,  able-bodied  men  and  all.  I  was  aware  that 
such  a  state  existed  in  Mexico,  where  a  ''beautiful 
cripple"  is  considered  a  great  and  direct  gift  from 
the  blessed  Virgin. 

It  is  hard  to  refuse  alms,  but  we  are  asked  at 
our  hotel  not  to  bestow  them  at  the  house  or  the 
place  would  be  shortly  infested,  as  the  word  would 
be  "passed  on."  However,  one's  regrets  cease 
when  one  learns  that  these  rags  and  this  misery 
are  especially  adopted  for  our  enslavement.  But 
enough  of  the  seamy  side  of  Biskra. 

The  oasis  is  pleasant  this  morning  here  in  this 
grove  of  palms  where  the  sunlight  flickers  through 
in  a  sociable  sort  of  fashion,  and  white-robed 
Moors  stroll  hither  and  thither,  picturesque 
beggars  have  assumed  their  most  taking  poses, 
numberless  boys  tumble  around  with  as  few  rags 
of  clothing  as  the  law  allows,  while  the  touch  of 
needed  brilliant  colour  is  given  by  the  brilliant 
scarlet  and  blue  uniforms  of  the  French  officers. 
The  French  colours  are  very  effective  on  some  of 
these  blacks.  Yonder  comes  one,  a  giant  in 
stature,  young  and  black  as  ebony,  wearing  a 
bright  blue  uniform  with  a  scarlet  fez  over  his 
black  face,  undoubtedly  a  ''filthy  bargain"  but 


204  Islam  Lands 

one  would  not  blame  a  Desdemona  who  could 
consider  one  of  his  colour  at  all.  Certainly  as  he 
advances  under  the  green  tunnel  of  palm  branches 
and  against  the  brilliant  background  of  the  sky- 
he  forms  a  most  striking  figure.  Here  comes  a  boy 
whose  hair  offers  somewhat  violent  contrasts  of 
bright  red  and  brown.  I  asked  one  the  other 
day  whose  head  was  so  adorned  the  reason  and  he 
knew  enough  English  to  reply  "Kill  'em. "  Graphic 
to  say  the  least,  certainly  no  further  description 
was  needed. 

As  for  the  apparent  poverty  here,  the  new- 
comer to  these  eastern  lands  must  remember 
that  the  state  of  the  people  which  appears 
so  wretched  to  him  is  their  natural  condition. 
Take  them  out  of  it,  do  your  best  for  them,  and 
then  leave  them  to  themselves  for  a  year,  and  you 
would  find  them  returned  to  this  which  has  been 
their  state  for  a  thousand  years,  in  fact,  since  man 
came  here.  Tolstoi's  descriptions  of  the  Russian 
prisons  strike  an  Anglo-Saxon  as  too  awful  to  be 
tolerated;  but,  be  they  as  bad  as  they  may,  aside 
from  the  pimishments  therein  inflicted,  they  were 
and  are  much  better  than  the  homes  of  the  masses. 
When  you  consider  that  the  servants  in  a  Russian 
palace  sleep  around  on  the  floor,  what  can  you 
expect  of  the  peasants*  hovels  and  the  prisons? 
Therefore,  cease  to  shiver.  Still  one's  heart  goes  out 
here  to  the  little  children.  The  mortality  amongst 
them  is  appalling  and  their  wondering  eyes  seem  to 
for  ever  bear  the  query,  * '  Wherefore  were  we  bom  ? '  * 


Children  Beggars  205 

It  is  sad  to  note  that  the  children  are  raised 
from  the  time  they  can  walk  to  be  runners  in  or 
rounders  up  of  possible  victims  for  their  wretched 
mothers.  Yonder  comes  a  bright-eyed  little  one 
dragging  a  wretched  old  hag  in  our  direction, 
and  having  brought  her  there,  immediately  looks 
around  for  other  victims.  Approaching  are  a 
group  of  four  ladies,  we  are  two  men.  The  child 
eyes  us  shrewdly  for  an  instant  and  then  turns 
to  the  ladies,  with  the  result  that  it  drags  the 
old  mother  off  to  the  supposedly  richer  or  more 
willing  victims.  These  women  will  not  work, 
and  hence  the  beggars.  But  remember  that  the 
money  you  give  the  child — and  you  will  give  it  to 
a  child  when  to  none  other — will  do  that  child  no 
good,  but  be  used  probably  for  some  lazy  father 
like  the  one  yonder  whose  under  dress  is  whole 
and  almost  clean.  His  dirty  rags  are  sewn  on 
a  foundation,  and  the  whole  can  be,  and  doubtless 
is  when  he  goes  home,  removed  like  a  mantle. 
What  frauds  they  all  are! 

Some  twenty  kilometres  south  from  Biskra, 
one  finds  the  ancient  and  purely  Moorish  city  of 
Sidi  Okba,  where  the  people  live  as  they  have  done 
since  the  great  warrior  from  whom  comes  its 
name  conquered  Africa  in  a.d.  680.  The  route 
there  is  not  easy  for  the  motor,  but  Toma  takes 
it  nevertheless,  and  we  joggle  around  like  a  lot  of 
loose  apples,  and  it  is  very  hot.  Still  we  have  the 
better  of  those  in  carriages  and  get  a  hearty  laugh 
now  and  then. 


2o6  Islam  Lands 

Just  now  we  encounter  an  Arab  family  travelling 
on  one  horse.  It  still  puzzles  me  to  know  where 
were  stowed  all  that  rode  thereon.  The  horse 
objected  to  the  motor  and  turned  suddenly, — 
result,  a  spread  over  the  highway  of  one  man,  one 
woman,  three  babies,  a  boy,  some  chickens,  and  a 
dog,  all  an  instant  before  on  that  one  horse,  and 
it  not  a  large  one.  Such  a  family  would  keenly 
delight  ex-President  Roosevelt.  The  noise  was 
like  unto  a  cage  of  disturbed  geese.  A  perfectly 
naked  youth  of  the  advanced  age  of  not  more 
than  four,  sat  down  in  the  dust  and  fairly  swore. 
I  regret  deeply  that  I  could  not  imderstand  what 
he  said,  it  was  doubtless  imique.  On  the  other 
side  of  the  road  some  stately  camels  gravely  re- 
garded the  scene  with  evident  disapproval.  The 
whole  cirumstance  was  laughable  in  the  extreme, 
but  I  doubt  if  the  actors  felt  so  towards  it. 

Like  all  the  rest  of  the  native  towns  this  very 
ancient  city  of  Sidi  Okba  is  all  of  mud  and  one 
wonders  how  these  walls  could  maintain  them- 
selves for  a  thousand  years. 

We  enter  between  blank  surfaces  of  mud, 
pierced  now  and  then  by  a  gateway,,  through  which 
bits  of  green  are  to  be  seen,  but  the  whole  is 
squalid  in  the  extreme. 

Once  in  the  town,  long  lines  of  white-robed  natives 
push  against  the  walls  and  allow  us  a  passage  and 
in  the  square  of  the  mosque  the  multitude  becomes 
so  dense  that,  what  with  beggars  and  guides,  one 
hesitates  to  leave  the  car,  and  the  misery,  dirt,  and 


a 

S 

a 
U 

§ 

S 
o 

o 


^ 


Sidi  Okba  207 

disease  are  enough  to  cause  one  to  hesitate — that, 
added  to  the  knowledge  that  not  a  man,  woman,  or 
child  in  sight  but  would  pounce  on  you  if  they 
dared.  As  it  is,  their  only  chance  to  get  money 
is  to  do  something  or  offer  something,  or  just  beg, 
and  most  of  them  do  all  three. 

We  finally  reach  the  door  of  the  holy  place 
and  having  had  our  feet  dusted  and  covered  by 
large  slippers,  are  allowed  to  enter.  It  is  not  an 
imposing  structure,  but  does  impress  and  hpld  a 
dignity  because  of  its  great  age,  as  it  is  considered 
the  most  ancient  Mohammedan  building  in 
Africa.  It  is  but  a  rude  hall  of  some  spaciousness 
whose  roof  is  supported  by  the  crudest  of  wooden 
posts.  Here  is  the  usual  sign — of  Sidi  Okba — and 
also  a  pulpit,  but  the  place  is  so  dusty  and  filthy 
that  it  does  not  hold  our  attention  for  any  length 
of  time. 

Mounting  to  the  top  of  the  giralda,  all  the  old 
town  lies  arotmd  us,  a  collection  of  roofless  mud 
hovels,  spreading  around  the  mosque  like  a 
rabbit's  warren,  but  I  venture  to  say,  not  half  so 
clean. 

From  this  point  of  vantage  one  is  taken  into  the 
domestic  arrangements  in  a  more  intimate  manner 
than  this  secretive  race  would  wish,  but  times  are 
changed,  and  yonder  fat  Moor  seems  to  object 
not  at  all  that  we  are  looking  right  into  his  harem. 

All  these  people  sleep  on  their  roofs  even  in 
winter.  The  gentleman  referred  to  lies  on  an 
Arab  bed,  with  his  hands  crossed  in  a  sentimental 


2o8  Islam  Lands 

fashion  over  his  fat  stomach  while  his  servants 
sprinkle  water  on  the  mud  around  him  to  lay  the 
dust  and  cool  the  air.  These  houses  being  made 
of  mud  are  for  ever  dusty  or  muddy,  in  fact,  these 
people  are  bom  in  the  mud,  live  in  the  mud,  and 
die  in  the  mud,  and  according  to  the  rules  of  the 
Koran,  are  buried  coffinless  in  shallow  mud  graves. 
But  yonder  fat  old  man  has  no  intention  of  doing 
so  at  present  and  keeps  his  servants  busily  at  work 
making  his  stay  on  this  earth  agreeable  according 
to  his  view  thereof;  in  the  next  little  topless  box 
of  a  room  are  his  wives  greatly  enjoying  the 
glances  of  the  Franks. 

What  a  life,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  to  do 
just  nothing,  unless  they  be  very  poor  and  must 
work  outside, — but  for  that  class  below  just 
nothing  at  all  throughout  all  the  weary  years,  shut 
up  in  mud  hovels.  But  there  is  everything 
in  the  point  of  view.  I  have  no  doubt  but 
that  yonder  house  is  a  great  mansion  from  their 
point. 

These  ladies  have  an  arbour  over  them  made  of 
the  bent  branches  of  some  trees  and  appear  to  be 
very  contented. 

The  same  indolent  life  is  everywhere  around 
as  far  as  we  can  see,  but  down  in  the  narrow 
streets  there  is  movement  enough,  though  the  men 
apparently  sit  around  and  smoke  all  day. 

In  one  respect  France  and  England  are  in  accord 
— they  do  not  in  any  way  interfere  with  the  religion 
of  the  peoples  in  their  distant  provinces,  but 


Desert  Tragedy  209 

rather  encourage  them  in  every  respect,  building 
their  mosques  for  them  and  enabling  them  to 
hold  them  sacred  from  intrusion  of  vandal  tour- 
ists, who  have  so  little  hesitated  to  outrage  every 
sense  of  decency  and  propriety  that  their  exclusion 
became  necessary. 

You  do  not  see  many  French  or  English  flags 
in  either  colony  and  the  native  rulers  are  upheld 
wherever  it  is  possible. 

It  is  stated  that  the  courts  are  impartial,  and 
that  French  and  natives  alike  obtain  justice, — 
a  contrast  that  to  our  consular  courts  on  the 
Asiatic  coast  some  years  since,  wherein,  it  was  a 
common  saying,  no  native  could  ever  obtain 
justice.  I  hope  that  is  all  changed  now,  since  the 
removal  of  some  of  the  men  who  so  disgraced  our 
nation.    But  to  return  to  Sidi  Okba. 

On  the  whole  the  town  is  but  a  labyrinth  of  big 
mud  boxes  with  no  tops,  crumbling,  stinking,  and 
dirty.  How  the  people  exist  at  all  is  a  wonder,  and 
that  such  a  spot  as  this  must  breed  diseases  of  all 
sorts  is  a  surety.  With  a  sigh  of  relief  the  mind 
and  eye  wander  outward  to  where  the  band  of 
palms  surround  the  town  and  v/hich  in  turn  are 
encircled  by  the  glittering  desert  spreading  off  to 
the  motmtains  on  the  north,  and  on  the  south 
into  the  infinite  level  of  the  great  Sahara,  and 
for  a  time  I  forget  the  scene  below  as  my  thoughts 
travel  into  its  vastness.  What  might  not  come 
out  of  those  ever-changing,  quivering  distances — 
beautiful,  fascinating  always,  when  viewed  from 
14 


210  Islam  Lands  ' 

afar,  but  the  mind  fills  with  terror  at  what  might 
happen  if  one  were  lost  out  there. 

There  was  a  weird  painting  in  Oran,  one  which 
haimted  my  dreams.  In  it  the  desert  stretches 
away,  yellow  wave  on  yellow  wave,  to  the  outer 
brink  of  the  world,  over  its  sands  the  sun  is  just 
rising,  and  all  the  sky  pulsates  with  rose  and  pale 
green  shot  with  crimson.  In  the  foreground  wan- 
ders away  a  soHtary  gaunt  camel  bearing  some- 
thing, what,  you  cannot  distinguish,  but  the 
vultiures  dotting  the  sky  or  hovering  closely  down 
tell  only  too  graphically.  All  is  dead  there  save 
those  birds  and  this  camel  whose  lonely  figure 
renders  the  desolation  more  intense,  more  horrible. 
Being  at  home  in  those  solitudes  he  has  outlived 
all  who  were  with  him  (imless,  which  God  forbid, 
that  thing  on  his  back  is  still  alive),  and  will 
wander  on  and  on  until  he  falls  in  the  awful  heat 
to  be  torn  to  pieces  by  those  vultures  while  yet 
alive,  leaving  nothing  save  his  bones  to  bleach  and 
bleach  and  crumble  into  that  sand — and  the  rest 
is  silence. 

One  may  condemn  modem  innovations  as 
destructive  of  the  picturesque,  but  one  accepts 
them  and  is  grateful  especially  after  such  a  ride 
as  the  one  just  ended.  With  sighs  of  relief  we  enter 
this  little  hotel  which,  cool  and  shady,  faces  an 
ocean  of  waving  palms.  Our  rooms  open  onto  the 
loggia,  where  long  chairs  and  soft  divans  invite 
us  to  repose  in  this  hot  hour,  and  indeed  it  would 
appear  a  pity  not  to  enjoy  such  a  good  sent  by  a 


Garden  of  Allah  211 

merciful  God  to  sojourners  in  this  land  of  heat  and 
sand,  but  the  famous  Garden  of  Allah  is  to  be  seen, 
not  the  one,  the  true  one,  which  covers  all  the  land, 
but  one  created  by  one  man  and  made  famous  by 
another,  and  as  we  depart  on  the  morrow  it  is 
now  or  never. 

Our  way  lies  through  the  dust  and  heat,  past 
the  prosaic  Hotel  Royal  and  the  stupid  casino, 
down  a  dusty,  hot  highway,  until  we  pause  before 
an  archway  in  a  high,  white  wall  and,  entering, 
are  in  paradise.  Can  such  a  spot  be  but  the 
figment  of  a  dream  in  torrid  Biskra?  A  stately 
hedge  of  darkest  ilex,  masses  of  deep  green  palms, 
waving  bamboos,  and  oleanders  in  full  bloom  shelter 
winding  walks,  and  the  babbling  of  brooks  sounds 
all  around  one.  A  twilight  fills  the  place,  and  every 
here  and  there,  there  rises,  embowered  in  the 
splendid  purple  bougainvilleas,  a  white  kiosque, 
cool  and  shadowy,  close  by  the  whispering  waters. 
Here  one  may  repose  the  soul,  and  does  indeed, 
most  gratefully,  repose  the  body.  It  is  delicious 
to  rest  and  be  silent. 

Wandering  through  the  shade,  one  comes  upon 
the  outer  wall  where  an  enchanting  prospect  of 
desert  is  spread  abroad.  In  the  middle  fore- 
ground the  white  dome  of  some  marabout's 
tomb,  yonder  a  white  bumoused  Arab  on  a  splendid 
horse,  and  beyond  the  scarlet  and  blue  of  a  French 
officer  on  a  black  charger,  while  off  and  away, 
wave  on  wave,  almost  quivering  with  life,  rolls 
the  desert  to  a  chain  of  yellow  mountains,  all 


212  Islam  Lands 

against  a  deep  blue  sky.  Truly  the  great  garden 
of  Allah,  and  all  the  more  fascinating  when  viewed 
from  this  grateful  shade;  but  time  passes,  the 
day  is  almost  done,  and  we  must  go  forth,  but  it  is 
with  a  desire  to  inscribe  over  the  archway  a 
remembrance  of  the  palace  at  Delhi,  "If  there  be 
an  Eden  of  bliss  it  is  this,  it  is  this,  it  is  this,  none 
but  this.'* 

The  mendicant  world  has  had  its  siesta  and  is 
ready  for  business  as  we  return  to  the  hotel,  and 
notwithstanding  that  they  are,  most  of  them,  such 
frauds,  they  succeed  in  draining  many  coppers 
from  us.  Ah  well,  they  are  such  merry  beggars, 
and  when  an  armless,  wretched,  ragged,  and  almost 
blind  man,  surely  near  his  century,  laughs  at  one's 
refusal,  he  is  apt  to  be  rewarded  for  his  jest  with 
fate. 

Our  fat  old  landlady  assures  us  that  it  will  be 
no  trouble,  indeed  quite  a  delight,  to  send  tea  up 
to  our  balcony,  and  fulfils  her  promise  to  her 
own  credit  and  our  satisfaction.  As  I  have  stated, 
this  is  not  the  hotel  of  Biskra;  that,  the  Royal,  was 
crowded  and  sent  us  here,  for  which  we  owe  them 
a  debt  of  gratitude.  That  is  full  of  attempted 
fashion,  much  gold  braid,  etc.,  and  faces  an  arid 
hot  square,  with  not  a  tree  near  it.  This  is  an 
old  stone  structure,  all  arcades,  full  of  shadowy 
comers  and  cool  loggias,  and  overlooks  an  ocean  of 
palms.  There  is  no  gold  braid  or  attempted 
fashion;  our  chambermaid  is  also  the  porter  and 
appears  in  full  dress  only  for  dinner.    The  only 


Mendicants  213 

woman,  save  the  huge  landlady,  that  I  have  seen 
around  the  house  is  his  wife  who  assists  him 
up-stairs. 

If  you  are  interested  in  the  reptile  and  insect  life 
of  the  desert,  it  is  here  in  bottles  all  around  the 
entrance  hall,  where  a  comfortable  cat  will  make 
you  welcome.  Across  the  street,  under  the 
shadow  of  a  wall  and  beneath  some  trees,  are  a 
few  benches  where  I  pass  the  drowsy  hours  and  am 
writing  now,  but  the  light  fades  and  night  de- 
scends, and  with  it  the  wind,  which  has  been 
moaning  around  us  all  day,  drops  to  rest. 

To-morrow  we  leave  Biskra,  and  while  I  have 
been  disappointed  in  some  things  I  am  glad  to 
have  seen  it,  though  I  do  not  think  it  will  ever 
be  a  great  resort,  because  of  its  howling  winds. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Departure  from  Biskra — Pastoral  Life  of  the  Bible — The 
Years  3000  B.C.  and  2000  a.d.  Confront  Each  Other — 
The  Religion  of  the  Prophet — Batna — Ancient  Timgad 
— A  Stately  Roman  City — Its  Downfall,  Burial,  and 
Resurrection. 

HAVE  you  ever  seen  the  sun  rise  over  a  grove  of 
palms?  If  not,  then  there  is  a  new  sensation 
left  even  to  a  weary  mortal  like  yourself. 

We  must  be  en  route  this  morning  early,  and 
the  day  is  just  coming  when  I  am  warned  that 
it  is  time  to  move.  That  I  do,  but  no  farther  than 
the  window,  as  I  know  through  many  years  past 
just  what  to  expect.  The  ocean  of  green  before  me 
has  just  begun  to  quiver  after  the  dead  stillness 
of  the  night.  The  delicate  fronds  wave  and  twist 
with  almost  htiman  effect,  and  seem  to  beckon  me 
out  into  the  free  air.  All  is  pale  green  against  an 
opalescent  sky  just  turning  to  rose,  and  the  arch 
at  the  end  of  the  loggia  frames  one  fantastic  yellow 
mountain  backed  by  the  fair  light.  How  good 
it  is  to  be  abroad  at  such  an  hour;  it  makes  one 
almost  a  boy  again. 

The  air,  as  we  leave  Biskra,  is  delightful,  just 
cool  enough  to  drive  away  all  bad  dreams  if  we 

214 


Leaving  Biskra  215 

have  had  any  and  strong  enough  to  renew  life  to 
all  of  us,  which  after  one  has  passed  forty  is  often 
very  necessary,  even  under  the  best  of  conditions. 

We  leave  the  oasis  almost  at  once  and  roll  out 
over  the  fine  hard  road  of  the  desert.  It  does  not 
seem  necessary  to  have  done  more  than  sweep 
away  the  sand  to  produce  the  road-bed,  which  is 
excellent.  The  motor  awakes  and  throbs  and 
throbs,  and  the  car  flies  on  and  on  until  from  the 
summit  of  a  mountain  we  turn  to  take  our  last 
look  at  Biskra,  gleaming  emerald-like  in  her 
vast  yellow  frame  with  the  waves  of  the  desert 
stretching  away  towards  darkest  Africa.  Then 
the  mountains  receive  us  and  hold  us  all  day 
long.  The  ride  from  first  to  last  is  one  of  the 
most  picturesque  I  have  ever  taken,  but  I  must 
warn  my  reader  that  it  would  not  be  so  in  the 
train, — from  a  carriage,  perhaps,  but  that  would 
be  tedious ;  certainly  in  a  motor  it  is  perfection. 

Some  leagues  onward  on  rounding  the  shoulder 
of  a  mountain  the  curtains  of  the  past  part  and  this 
twentieth  century  comes  face  to  face  with  3000  B.C. 
On  the  one  side  our  car  with  its  begoggled  and 
tightly  tied  down  inmates,  its  glistening  brasses 
and  puffing  power,  on  the  other,  directly  facing  us 
and  in  the  centre  of  the  broad  white  way,  a  stately 
figure  robed  as  Moses  must  have  been  when  he 
led  his  children  off  and  away  from  their  bondage. 
Yellow  slippers  project  beneath  the  hem  of  a  white 
under  robe  over  which,  in  most  kingly  fashion,  he 
wears  a  long  brown  burnous  reaching  to  his  feet. 


21 6  Islam  Lands  ; 

His  dark  benevolent  face  is  topped  by  a  gigantic 
white  turban,  bound  around  by  a  silk  scarf  of 
many  colours.  He  carries  a  long  staff  and  advances 
with  the  greatest  dignity,  gravely  saluting. 

Off  and  away  on  either  hand  stretch  green 
meadows,  dotted  with  many  sheep  and  encircled 
by  the  purple  mountains.  Behind  crowds  his 
caravan, — horses  of  great  beauty,  camels,  donkeys, 
and  many  dogs.  On  the  first  white  camel  rides 
what  must  evidently  be  the  mother  or  first  wife, 
one  can  never  tell  the  age  of  these  women  after 
twenty  is  passed.  This  one  seems  old  but  is  robed 
in  many  colours  and  wears  silver  earrings,  formed 
by  immense  hoops  of  some  inches  in  diameter.  One 
can  see  that  her  fingers  are  loaded  with  rings,  and 
that  she  is  seated  on  fine  rugs,  also  that  she  rides 
alone  on  her  great  white  beast.  How  stately  its 
movements,  slowly  pacing  past  us,  how  mag- 
nificently it  holds  its  head.  All  the  other  horses 
and  camels  are  crowded  with  women  and  children. 
Babies  hang  round  like  glass  balls  on  a  Christmas 
tree.  In  the  panniers  are  many  little  lambs  and 
countless  chickens,  all  tucked  in  save  their  heads. 
The  boys  and  younger  men  drive  the  sheep  and 
the  dogs  collect  the  stragglers. 

So  passes  the  year  3000  B.C.  whilst  A.D.  2000  sits 
in  silence,  giving  to  the  old  days  the  reverence 
which  is  their  due. 

Then  [the  motor  sputters,  and  we  drop  down 
some  five  thousand  years,  with  no  injury  to  any 
that  I  can  see  and  with  a  better  feeling  to  all 


From  a  photograph  by  the  Author 


Chabet  Gorge 


Islamism  217 

for  that  glimpse  amongst  the  peoples  of  remote 
antiquity. 

Yet  one  wonders  why  a  religion  which  has  per- 
petuated to  our  day  the  exact  state  of  affairs 
which  held  centuries  ago  was  permitted  by  the 
good  God.  Surely  *4f  we  do  not  progress,  we  must 
decline,  we  starve  in  the  possessed."  The  de- 
scendants of  the  old  prophets  have,  the  world 
over,  adopted  the  changes  and  advances  caused 
by  time,  but  with  the  appearance  of  Islamism 
the  manners  and  customs  of  that  day  were  con- 
firmed, and  wherever  the  Crescent  rules  they 
yet  abide  absolutely  unchanged.  What  is  there 
in  that  religion  to  hold  its  people  so?  Is  it 
lust,  or  indolence?  Certainly  from  any  decent 
standpoint  there  can  be  no  recommendation 
found  in  it  as  it  is  to-day, — the  degradation 
and  enslavement  of  the  women,  the  filth  and 
disease  in  which  the  people  live  and  will  live 
for  ever,  the  awful  mortality  amongst  the  children 
with  whom  it  is  only  the  strongest  that  survive, 
— ^in  little  Biskra  they  die  at  the  rate  of  several  a 
day, — the  absolute  lack  of  advance  or  improve- 
ment of  any  sort,  that  is  Islamism,  that  will  be 
Islamism  unto  its  final  extinction.  Will  the  day 
ever  come?  It  is  the  only  creed  which  has  im- 
pressed upon  its  people  the  belief  that  it  is 
the  only  one  which  worships  God.  One  of  the 
Christian  churches  endeavoured  to  do  so  in  the 
dark  ages  and  we  know  how  that  church  failed. 
She  wisely  appreciates  that  fact  and  now  moves 


2i8  Islam  Lands 

onward  and  forward.  With  these  people  Moses 
would,  if  he  could  return,  feel  absolutely  at  home 
again. 

We  pass  northward  until  Batna  is  reached — a 
point  I  should  advise  all  against  stopping  at,  not 
only  because  of  its  filthy  hotel,  but  more  filthy  land- 
lady. We  limched  there  on  the  way  up  but  avoid 
it  to-day,  and,  turning  westward,  drop  the  Orient 
behind  and  away  from  us.  It  vanishes  as  utterly 
as  though  but  a  mist  of  the  morning.  History 
makes  a  shift  complete  and  entire  and  we  are  in 
the  domain  of  Imperial  Rome.  How  little  the 
world  of  travellers  knows  of  these  lands?  How 
many  at  home  ever  heard  of  or  know  what  the 
name  ^'Timgad"  signifies?  Is  it  a  native  town,  a 
caravansary,  a  valley,  or  a  mountain?  None  of 
those,  but  the  ruins  of  a  great  Roman  city,  ruins 
far  more  extensive,  certainly  far  more  stately 
and  impressive  than  those  of  any  Italian  town. 

Timgad  occupies  a  plain  which  slopes  upward  for 
a  long  distance  and  is  encircled  by  a  distant  chain 
of  mountains. 

The  forum  of  the  city  crowns  the  highest  point 
and  the  whole  is  visible  for  a  great  distance 
as  one  approaches.  You  enter  on  a  broad 
stone-paved  avenue  intersected  by  another  of 
like  width  and  at  regular  intervals  by  others 
of  narrower,  and  in  the  former  the  tracks  of  the 
chariot  wheels  are  deeply  cut. 

On  either  side  the  houses  and  other  buildings 
have  been  demolished  to  about  half  the  height 


Timgad  219 

of  the  first  story  but  the  entire  plan  of  the  btdldings 
shows  most  interestingly, — every  court  and  cham- 
ber of  the  private  house,  the  arrangement  of  the 
bathing  establishments,  the  drainage  and  sewerage 
of  the  city,  the  form  of  the  shops.  The  pavement 
of  the  forum  is  still  perfect  and  its  form  plainly 
determined  by  the  many  columns  still  erect.  I 
think  it  is  the  most  perfect  I  have  ever  seen. 

As  one  stands  on  the  steps  leading  to  the  forum 
the  main  avenue  of  the  city  drops  away  in  front, 
while  another  equally  as  wide  and  perfect  crosses 
from  side  to  side  of  the  city  and  terminates  on  the 
left  in  an  arch  of  grand  proportions  and  in  very 
good  condition,  more  majestic,  I  think,  than  any 
at  Rome. 

The  Temple  of  Minerva  here  was  of  great  di- 
mensions and  very  stately,  judging  by  the  columns 
which  are  still  standing. 

Away  in  all  directions  spread  these  ruins  of  what 
must  have  been  a  very  populous  city.  Wliile  Tim- 
gad  is  in  a  valley,  the  city  really  occupies  an  eleva- 
tion. Timgad,  the  ancient  Thamugadi,  is  sheltered 
by  the  Aures  Mountains  near  the  northern  fringe 
of  the  great  Sahara.  It  stood  in  the  days  of 
Rome  at  the  junction  of  six  roads  and  was 
fortified  strongly.  Founded  in  a.d.  100  by  Lucius 
Manatius  Gallus,  it  flourished  for  three  centuries. 
Then  came  the  native  insurrection,  followed  by  the 
Vandals  in  535,  who  partially  destroyed  it.  It 
was  restored  by  Solomon,  a  Byzantine  general,  and 
was  prosperous  until  the  Arab  invasion  of  646. 


220  Islam  Lands 

Abandonment  followed  its  fall,  and  the  passing 
centuries  piled  ruin  upon  ruin  and  covered  the 
whole  with  sand  until  the  great  city  was  blotted 
out. 

The  traveller  of  to-day  is  thankful  that  it  was  so 
completely  btuied,  yet  with  such  material  that 
nothing  was  injured  and  all  is  easily  imcovered, 
the  result  being  that  in  these  latter  days  we  may 
enter  these  gates  and  more  fully  imderstand  what 
a  Roman  city  was  and  what  the  manner  of  Hving 
therein  than  in  any  other  spot  on  earth.  Rome  not 
excepted. 

All  this  section  is  rich  in  ruins  but  Timgad  is 
more  complete  and  majestic  than  any  other.  To 
my  thinking  it  far  surpasses  in  majesty  Pompeii. 
The  mosaic  pavements  are  more  extensive  and 
more  perfect  than  in  the  Italian  city  and  Pompeii 
holds  nothing  which  will  approach  the  magnificent 
sweep  of  these  avenues  or  the  majesty  of  yonder 
arch  which  bears  the  inscription,  "The  Emperor 
Caesar  Nerva  Trajan  Augustus  Germanicus,  son  of 
the  divine  Nerva,  etc.,  etc.,  founded  the  Marcian 
colony.  Trajanam  of  Thamugadi  by  the  help  of 
the  Third  Legion,  Lucius  Manatius  GaUus  being 
the  legal  imperial  proprietor." 

In  this  atmosphere  these  remains  of  Timgad  will 
outlast  time  if  man  lets  them  alone. 

It  is  to  me  certainly  the  most  interesting  Roman* 
ruin  I  have  ever  seen,  probably  because  no  modem 
era  has  intruded  its  remains  here.     There  is  no 
dirty  Arab  town  or  house  near  it,  in  fact  no  house 


Life  in  Timgad  221 

at  all  save  the  little  one  where  we  lunched — it  is 
all  except  the  great  monastery  purely  Roman, 
and  therefore  gives  greater  satisfaction  than  is 
usually  the  case. 

One  feels  as  though  no  dress  should  be  worn 
here  but  the  toga,  no  foot-covering  save  sandals. 

Here,  philosophers  debated;  here,  the  public 
meetings  were  held;  here  the  children  gathered, 
and  one  may  still  discern  in  the  pavements  the 
gaming  tablet  cut  carelessly  with  a  knife. 

Here  is  an  inscription,  which,  being  translated, 
reads,  "To  htmt,  to  bathe,  to  play,  to  laugh, 
that  is  to  live." 

Yonder  is  the  theatre  with  its  twenty-five  tiers. 

Life  was  not  hard  to  the  rich  in  Timgad.  Here 
are  luxurious  baths,  courts,  gardens,  and  fish  tanks. 
It  would  not  greatly  siu*prise  you  to  see  a  superb 
chariot  roll  by, — there  were  many  here,  judging 
from  those  ruts  on  the  pavement. 

Other  highways  were  discovered  outside  the 
city  walls,  bordered  with  little  shops,  with  work- 
rooms and  workmen's  lodgings  in  the  rear  as 
well  as  the  shop-keepers'  own  abodes.  There  the 
country  people  could  make  purchases  at  once 
without  entering  the  city.  Soldiers  from  the 
Augustan  Third  Legion  used  to  congregate  there. 
Those  suburban  districts  were  bustling  with 
activity. 

Among  mediocre  dwellings  rose  certain  larger, 
more  luxurious  houses,  with  paved  vestibules  at 
the  front  and  porticoes  around  the  outside.     Huge 


222  Islam  Lands 

square  basins  occupied  the  middle  of  these  build- 
ings, and  the  rooms  opened  upon  atriimis  paved 
with  marble  mosaics. 

The  principal  event  of  later  years  has  been 
the  excavation  of  the  great  Timgad  Monastery. 
The  diggings  of  the  preceding  years  had  unearthed 
basiHca  and  several  contiguous  buildings.  The 
work  is  finished  now.  We  see  the  long  alignment 
of  galleries  and  cells,  the  common  rooms,  the 
lavatory  and  laundry,  and  the  hexagonal  baptistry 
with  its  central  tank,  which  was  reached  by  three 
steps  sheathed  in  mosaics.  Extensive  additions 
to  the  abbey  show  how  the  community  grew  and 
prospered. 

And  this  magnificent  Christian  edifice,  530  feet 
long  by  230  broad,  disappeared  one  day,  like  all 
the  pagan  moniunents  of  Timgad,  when  the 
barbaric  invaders  swooped  down  from  the  Aures. 
A  cemetery  was  estabHshed  on  the  site,  and  it  has 
been  necessary  to  remove  the  tombs  in  order  to 
reach  the  monastery  pavements  below.  And 
they  are  worth  all  the  toil  it  takes  to  recover 
them.  They  are  adorned  with  zigzags,  Chrismons, 
laurel  leaves,  and  panels  in  bright  and  varied 
colours. 

Still  more  remarkable  are  those  that  M.  Ballu 
discovered  in  two  houses  within  the  city.  One 
of  these  mosaics  represents  a  nude  sea  goddess 
dressing  her  hair.  Two  genii,  likewise  nude, 
bear  her  aloft  upon  a  seashell.  Dolphins  gambol 
about  her.     The  background  of  the  picture  con- 


Christianity  in  Timgad  223 

sists  of  red  drapery.  The  other  mosaic,  framed 
in  acanthus  leaves,  tendrils,  and  volutes,  with 
birds  flitting  among  them,  shows  us  another  nude 
goddess,  in  the  midst  of  the  waves,  seated  upon 
a  Triton's  tail;  she  holds  up  her  tresses  with  her 
hand ;  a  light,  filmy  veil  floats  above  her  head. 

Springs  in  the  gorges  of  the  Ain-Morris  supplied 
the  city,  furnishing  all  the  water  needed  for  the 
baths,  fountains,  markets,  public  edifices,  and 
dwellings.  After  washing  the  streets,  the  water 
passed  through  the  aqueducts  and  sewers  to 
replenish  the  gardens  of  the  outlying  districts. 
It  was  one  of  the  finest  things  about  this  city  of 
the  desert  that  its  streets  were  always  white  and 
clean,  its  squares  cooled  by  plashing  fountains, 
its  surrounding  country  gay  with  greenery. 

These  abundant  waters  were  the  very  life  of 
Timgad.  When  the  first  Berber  invaders  swooped 
down,  the  city  of  Trajan  was  sacked,  but  as  the 
aqueducts  were  not  destroyed,  water  still  flowed  in 
from  the  Ain-Morris.  In  the  immense  desert  that 
reaches  down  from  the  mountains  of  the  Aures 
toward  Batna,  Thamugadi  remained  a  sort  of 
oasis.  It  emerged  from  its  ruins.  A  Christian 
city,  smaller  but  beautiful  and  flourishing,  took 
the  place  of  the  Roman  town.  Then  arose  the 
basilicas,  the  baptisteries,  and  the  convents  whose 
imposing  remains  have  been  discovered.  A  fort, 
built  by  Solomon,  successor  to  Belisarius,  protected 
the  city  against  fresh  incursions.  It  lived  in 
peace  for  how  long  a  time? 


224  Islam  Lands  . 

Of  its  final  destruction  nothing  definite  is  known. 
M.  Albert  Ballu  tells  us  that  in  the  eighth  century 
the  Berbers  camped  on  its  ruins.  This  time 
Timgad  was  not  to  rise  again.  The  wrecked 
aqueducts  no  longer  furnished  water.  Houses  and 
public  buildings  were  overthrown.  The  desert 
crept  over  the  place  where  Timgad  had  stood. 
Dust-storms  buried  the  debris.  Sand-storms 
completed  its  interment.  It  seemed  to  sink  into 
the  earth.  In  that  awful  solitude  no  witness 
was  at  hand  to  make  record  of  its  fate.  Only 
the  entablature  of  a  great  triumphal  arch  was 
left  above  the  surface  to  indicate  that  the  place 
had  once  been  inhabited. 

To  me  Roman  ruins  are  cold.  I  do  not  care  to 
linger  amongst  them  nor  indeed  to  study  their 
history  as  I  do  the  castles  and  abbeys  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  but  I  did  not  feel  so  as  regards 
Timgad. 

It  was  not  difficult  to  restore  to  its  old  time 
splendour  this  city  of  the  great  Empire,  nor  to  fill 
its  streets  with  moving  throngs  and  many  chariots 
and  horses,  to,  in  fact,  make  it  live  once  more. 

To  reach  here  save  in  motors  is  tedious  and 
difficult.  It  means  a  long  ride  of  many  hours 
by  train  from  Algiers  or  Tunis  to  Batna  and  a  long 
carriage  drive  from  there.  The  motor  brings  it 
within  easy  reach  as  it  does  all  the  interesting 
parts  of  North  Africa. 

I  had  visited  these  lands  before,  but  I  know  now 
that  I  saw  little  or  nothing  and  the  longer  I  remain 


Leaving  Timgad  225 

the  more  convinced  I  am  of  that  fact;  and  when 
the  work  of  excavation  over  North  Africa  is 
completed,  no  other  section  of  the  world  will  be 
so  full  of  attractions  for  the  arch^ologist  and  the 
student  of  history.  Carthage  has  scarcely  been 
examined,  Utica  not  at  all. 

On  our  return  to  Batna  we  pause  a  moment  at 
the  ruins  of  the  great  Roman  camp,  but  after 
Timgad  they  do  not  hold  us  long  and  we  are  soon 
off  and  away,  turning  for  a  last  glimpse  at  the 
stately  city  where  she  crowns  her  hill  and  is 
guarded  by  her  solemn  mountains.  Are  those 
Roman  legions  or  shadows  moving  down  her 
grand  avenue?     Doubtless  the  place  is  haunted. 

Between  the  cold  rushing  air  and  the  great 
interests  of  the  day  we  are  both  tired  and  sleepy 
when  we  reach  our  hotel  in  Constantine,  but  such 
a  day  was  worth  being  both,  a  day  to  be  remem- 
bered when  one  becomes  too  old  for  aught  save 
dreams. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Departure  from  Constantlne — Rapid  Run  to  Setif — A  Dirty- 
Place — Descent  of  the  Mountains  and  Passage  of  the 
Gorge  of  Chabet-el-Akhira — Superb  Scenery — The  Great 
Roadways  of  the  French — Their  Construction  and 
Maintenance — The  African  Reviera  —  Bougie — The 
Kabyles  and  their  Mountains — Arrival  at  Algiers. 

LEAVING  Constantine  in  the  early  morning, 
the  ride  to  Setif  is  on  the  whole  uninteresting 
and  somewhat  dreary,  the  scenery  being  without 
especial  charm  and  the  entire  route  lying  over  a 
high,  dusty  plateau  of  some  thirty-five  hundred 
feet  in  altitude,  where  the  snow  is  deep  in  winter 
and  the  dust  blows  in  clouds  all  the  other  months 
of  the  year.  However,  we  are  reconciled  to  the 
ride  by  the  superb  highway, — hard  as  a  floor  and 
wide,  it  enabled  one  to  give  one*s  self  up  to  the 
joy  of  motion  pure  and  simple,  and  one  is  not 
disappointed.  Meeting  but  one  motor  in  all  the 
one  himdred  and  twenty-seven  kilometres,  we  are 
not  troubled  with  dust,  though  we  must  bestow 
some  on  other  people. 

The  prospect  has  ceased  to  be  oriental  save  for 
the  inhabitants  and  they  are  very  few  in  number. 
Camel?  have  vanished  entirely.  "Too  cold,"  the 
chauffeur  says,  but  I  have  seen  the  stately  animal 

226 


Constantine  to  Setif  227 

on  the  Dariel  Pass  and  trudging  through  the  snows 
of  Siberia;  they  are  also  very  plentiful  around 
Pekin  where  the  cold  is  intense  and  long  enduring 
in  winter.  However,  those  beasts  were  much  more 
sturdy  looking  than  these  in  Africa.  Be  the  reason 
what  it  may,  they  are  gone  and  the  little  donkeys 
have  all  the  land  to  themselves,  except  for  the  stage 
horses. 

We  are  somewhat  late  for  luncheon  at  Setif, — 
Hotel  de  France, — and  do  not  regret  it.  The 
town  and  hotel  are  horrid  and  dirty,  especially  the 
latter.  I  think  it  only  right  to  warn  all  travellers 
against  spending  any  more  time  at  this  house,  and 
the  one  in  Batna,  than  is  absolutely  necessary. 
While  the  food  was  not  so  bad  in  either,  one  almost 
hesitated  to  eat  it  because  of  the  filthy,  dirty 
hotel,  dirt  and  filth  maintaining  from  the  frouzy 
headed  landladies  to  the  ''boots."  If  you  must 
pass  there  other  than  in  a  motor,  arrange  to  take 
the  train  either  for  Constantine  or  Algiers. 

Our  half  day  from  Setif  to  Bougie  made  up  for 
all  the  tediousness  of  the  morning's  ride  and  the 
dirty  hotel.  It  was  one  of  the  most  glorious  I 
have  ever  taken  and  I  think  the  world  holds  no 
superior  and  few  equals.  Except  for  the  one  peak 
of  the  Kasbic  its  scenery  is  superior  to  the  Dariel 
Pass  in  the  Caucasus. 

We  leave  Setif  full  as  to  the  inner  man  and  our 
route  turns  at  once  northward  into  the  barren 
mountains  through  which  for  fifty  kilometres 
we  wind,   nearly   always  descending  in  long  or 


228  Islam  Lands 

short  ctirves  and  at  a  steep  angle.  Sometimes  we 
can  trace  the  road  for  miles  before  us  far  down 
into  distant  valleys  and  we  descend  for  so  great 
a  distance  that  we  begin  to  lose  faith  in  the 
possibility  of  a  famous  gorge  such  as  had  been 
promised.  But  even  so  the  scenery  is  grand, 
though  very  sombre,  not  a  tree  or  bit  of  green  in  all 
the  distance.  Be  certain  of  the  strength  of  your 
car  and  the  ability  of  your  driver  when  you  come 
this  way;  a  break  or  false  turn  would  send  all 
to  eternity  at  most  any  moment.  We  have  a  very 
sturdy  Darach  and  an  excellent  man.  At  least 
he  appears  so  throughout  the  African  tour.  In 
Spain  he  lost  his  head  on  one  occasion  and  almost 
ended  all  things  for  the  party.  The  car  came 
from  the  auto  Palace  Garage  in  Tunis.  It  has 
served  us  so  well  that  I  cannot  but  mention  its 
name.  To-day  tests  the  motor  severely  and 
successfully. 

Still  it  is  with  some  relief  that  we  pause  for  a 
moment  in  a  little  town  where  a  large,  fat  French 
lady  furnishes  us  amusement  by  jimiping  wildly 
from  a  wagon  and  sitting  down,  inadvertently, 
I  admit,  directly  in  front  of  our  wheels.  There 
is  absolutely  no  danger  as  we  are  not  moving,  but 
her  terror  is  comical.  Assisted  to  her  feet,  soothed 
and  brushed  off  by  two  officers,  she  is  soon  all 
smiles  and  doubtless  could  have  repeated  the 
performance  with  the  assurance  of  such  attention. 
It  is  impossible  not  to  laugh  and  I  fear  I  do  so. 
Whatever  it  was  does  not  please  the  officers  and 


The  Chabet  Gorge  229 

it  is  as  well  that  our  car  rolls  onward.  It  is  here, 
at  Kharata,  that  the  gorge  of  the  Chabet-el- 
Akhira  commences.  Kharata  is  thirteen  hundred 
feet  above  the  sea  and  the  gorge  acts  like  a  huge 
cool  air-duct :  we  feel  it  blowing  strongly  between 
yonder  cliffs  which  rise  portal-like  at  its  entrance. 
The  traveller  is  at  once  struck  with  the  idea  that 
this  gorge  is  the  result  of  a  tremendous  convulsion  of 
nature.  It  is  seven  kilometres  (five  miles)  in  length 
and  the  cliffs  rise  perpendicularly  for  a  thousand 
or  fifteen  himdred  feet  and  so  narrow  that  a  stone 
can  be  cast  from  one  side  to  the  other  at  any  point. 
Perhaps  when  the  great  Sahara  was  a  sea  this 
was  one  of  the  outlets  or  inlets  to  the  outer  sea. 
The  highway  is  cut  out  of  the  cliff's  side  the  entire 
distance  and  is  some  three  hundred  feet  above  a 
rushing  torrent.  Until  it  was  built,  the  gorge  could 
be  inspected  only  from  the  lateral  valleys. 

The  road  is  a  magnificent  piece  of  engineering. 
As  our  car  rolls  along  we  have  but  a  glimpse  now 
and  then  of  a  strip  of  blue  sky  far  overhead.  The 
cliffs  rise  barren  and  sombre  and  no  sound  breaks 
the  stillness  save  the  voice  of  the  torrent,  or  now 
and  then  the  wild  screeching  of  a  troop  of  monkeys 
fleeing  away  before  us.  Wherever  the  lateral 
valleys  enter  are  beautiful  cascades  and  luxuriant 
foliage,  but  the  general  aspect  is  gloomy  and  grand 
past  expression.  Finally  it  widens  out,  the  river 
assumes  more  stately  proportions  and  is  less 
boisterous,  while  the  banks  and  foot-hills  are 
bowers  of  blooming  oleanders  and  roses,  and  then 


230  Islam  Lands 

vast  forests  of  cork  and  oak  trees  spread  away  to 
the  sea. 

France  has  done  a  great  work  in  building  all 
these  roads  of  Tunisia  and  Algeria,  but  nothing  to 
compare  to  this  of  the  Chabet  Gorge,  which  she 
completed  in  1864. 

One  beauty  succeeds  another  in  this  wonderful 
land.  We  have  scarcely  recovered  from  the 
impressions  produced  by  the  gorge,  when  the  road 
running  by  the  sea  commences  the  ascent  of  Cape 
Okas  which  it  winds  around,  more  than  one 
hundred  feet  above  the  sparkling  waters;  imtil 
finally  the  Gulf  of  Bougie,  encircled  by  most 
picturesque  mountains,  seven  thousand  feet  high, 
spreads  away  before  us. 

There  is  somethin  pectdiarly  beautiful  about 
this  African  Riviera.  It  is  difficult  at  first  to 
decide  exactly  what  it  is  that  causes  the  exquisite 
effect.  I  think  it  is  the  colour  of  the  mountains, 
warmer,  richer  than  in  the  North,  sparkling  ever 
with  the  sunlight  of  this  glorious  South  and 
kissed  by  it  into  a  life  which  those  of  the  northern 
climes  never  know.  Certainly  here  at  Bougie 
mountains  and  sea  and  sky  are  of  a  beauty  past 
description. 

Bougie  is  two  thousand  years  old  and  holds 
many  spots  of  interest  and  romance  in  and  near 
her.  Yonder  on  Cape  Okas  is  the  tomb  of  a  saint 
so  holy  that,  when  in  life  he  prayed,  the  marabouts 
(saints)  of  all  the  other  countries  sped  thither  in 
the  form  of  birds,  just  to  hear  his  voice. 


Bougie  231 

Carthaginians,  Romans,  Vandals,  Berbers, 
Arabs,  Spaniards,  and  Turks  have  all  passed  this 
way  and  all  left  their  trace  in  Bougie.  A  high 
state  of  civilisation  existed  here  centuries  ago. 

We  think  the  heliograph  a  modem  discovery, — 
it  was  used  here  commonly  in  1068.  Ferdinand 
of  Spain  possessed  Bougie  in  1508,  thereby  "carry- 
ing the  war  into  Africa."  The  Algerians  drove 
out  the  general  of  Charles  V,  who  was  iallowed  to 
return  to  Spain  with  four  himdred  men,  where- 
upon the  King  promptly  cut  off  his  head,  as  the 
Moors  knew  that  he  would  do. 

That  ended  the  grandeur  of  Bougie,  which 
shriveled  up  almost  to  nothing,  until  France 
instilled  new  life,  and  now  it  is  a  pleasant  little 
city  with  some  remnants  of  its  former  state  in 
its  ruined  forts.  The  city  gave  its  name  to  the 
French  for  ''candle"  as  the  wax  came  from  here. 

We  arrived  at  sunset  at  the  town  perched  high 
on  a  hill  overlooking  the  sea.  Chances  for  rooms 
look  slim  enough  at  the  H6tel  de  France  as  two  of 
''Cook's  caravans,"  as  the  manager  of  the  hotel 
calls  them,  are  installed  and  take  up  nearly  the 
whole  house.  However,  we  are  disposed  of  finally 
and  all  goes  well. 

France  has  done  in  North  Africa  what  England 
will  do,  if  she  is  wise,  in  Egypt.  The  highroad 
is  an  equal  civiliser  and  settler  with  the  railroad 
and  reaches  points  that  the  latter  cannot  reach. 

To  go  back  a  little,  as  we  left  the  Chabet  Gorge 
and  came  out  upon  the  sea,  we  entered  upon  one 


232  Islam  Lands 

of  the  finest  pieces  of  road -making  in  the  world. 
Europe  has  nothing  to  equal  it.  I  refer  to  the 
highway  between  Bougie  and  Jijeli.  The  road 
is  probably  two  hundred  miles  in  length  along  a 
most  forbidding  coast,  where  almost  the  entire 
route  has  been  cut  out  of  the  soHd  rocks,  high  up 
over  the  sea,  forming  the  most  wonderful  comiche 
in  the  world,  and  there  does  not  appear  to  be  any 
town  between  the  two  mentioned,  and  they  are 
inconsiderable  in  size. 

France  has  here,  as  all  over  the  land,  built  for 
the  future.  The  equal  of  the  Roman  roads,  these 
will  last  for  centuries,  and  by  their  means  France 
is  opening  this  country  and  preparing  it  for  the 
immense  population  it  will  certainly  contain  in 
the  coming  years. 

That  nation  may  be  on  the  decline  in  the  mother 
country,  but  such  is  certainly  not  the  case  in  her 
provinces  of  North  Africa.  All  over  the  land  she 
has  spread  a  network,  not  only  of  great,  but  lesser, 
highways,  and  every  mountain  pathway  has  been 
laid  off  with  the  greatest  care  and  skill.  And  this 
is  not  only  near  the  great  cities,  but  extending 
far  out  into  the  desert  for  the  accomodation  of 
the  great  caravans  as  they  come  in  from  the  heart 
of  darkest  Africa. 

These  roads  are  built  to  stay.  All  the  bridges 
and  tunnels  are  of  stone;  the  outer  walls  along 
a  cliff  or  over  the  sea  are  a  yard  high  and  eighteen 
inches  thick.  The  widest  gorge  was  no  barrier, 
nor  the  highest  motmtains.     The  engineers  em- 


Road  Building  in  Algeria         233 

ployed  were  past-masters  of  their  profession 
and  a  century  hence  will  find  their  work  as 
firm  as  to-day.  I  noticed  especially  west  of 
Algiers  endless  numbers  of  highways  stretching 
off  in  the  distance  for  miles  in  perfectly  straight 
lines,  from  which  other  roads  branched  off  in 
all  directions,  until  the  most  remote  regions  of 
these  provinces  have  been  reached.  What  this 
means  from  a  military  standpoint  alone  can 
easily  be  understood.  France  believes  that  good 
roads  invite  settlers  and  does  not  wait  until  a 
district  becomes  populous  but  builds  into  the 
mountains  and  deserts,  and  as  surely  population 
follows. 

She  keeps  all  her  roads  in  perfect  order.  This 
whole  land  is  divided  into  sections,  ;each  with  its 
overseer  who  has  a  full  corps  of  men  under  him. 
He  has  a  good  house  to  live  in,  provided  by  the 
state.  Every  kilometre  of  these  roads  is  marked 
by  a  square  stone  giving  the  needed  distance  to 
the  next  town,  and  every  ten  metres  of  every 
kilometre  is  plainly  marked  in  like  manner.  Here 
also  are  watering  troughs,  with  pure  water,  built 
of  concrete  or  stone. 

What  would  not  such  roads  do  for  the  United 
States?  Why  cannot  we  do  what  any  other 
nation  does?  This  is  a  younger  land,  from  this 
point,  than  ours,  and  yet  it  is  far  ahead  of  us, — 
so  far,  that  we  blush  with  shame  when  we  come 
here,  and  fully  understand  the  subject.  All  this 
has  been  accomplished  since  i860.     How  weary  it 


234  Islam  Lands 

makes  one  with  the  blatant  braggadocio  of  so 
many  thousands  of  our  countrymen  who  wander 
Europe  over. 

There  is  absolutely  no  excuse  for  us.  If  the 
money  paid  out  on  our  infamous  pension  list, 
which  we  dare  not  pubHsh,  or  that  stolen  in  the 
building  of  certain  State-houses  had  been  expended 
on  the  roads,  the  condition  of  our  highways  would 
be  far  different  from  what  they  now  are ;  yet  those 
thieves  flaunt  their  presence  at  our  best  resorts, 
and  boast  that  they  have  the  money  and  the 
state  may  whistle  for  it.  All  this  brings  to 
mind,  also  some  thoughts  as  to  the  enlarge- 
ment of  one  of  our  great  canals.  What  are  the 
salaries  being  paid  there  and  what  work  has  been 
done? 

The  tax  for  the  support  of  these  roads  is  three 
days'  work  on  the  main  roads  and  one  on  the 
minor  for  every  adult  in  the  land,  and  can  be 
worked  out  or  paid  in  cash.  Appreciating  the 
benefit  to  themselves  of  these  mediums  of  easy  and 
comfortable  commimication  the  natives  gladly 
work  out,  when  they  do  not  pay,  and  appear  to 
enjoy  the  work.  Our  rural  population  would 
doubtless  gratefully  support  any  move  our  Govern- 
ment made  in  such  a  direction,  and  the  benefit  to 
the  whole  land  would  be  past  computation, 
especially  to  Alaska  from  which  at  present  we  are 
taking  everything  and  giving  nothing. 
I  There  is  not  a  nation  on  the  globe  which  could 
not  in  this  respect  profit  by  a  study  of  these 


Support  of  the  Highways         235 

French  methods  here  in  North  Africa,  where  the 
roads  are  far  better  than  in  France  itself. 

I  remember  years  ago  gazing  in  wonder  and 
admiration  at  the  superb  highways  viewed  from  the 
railway  carriage  and  longing  to  travel  over  them. 
It  was  impossible  then,  but  with  the  motor 
all  that  is  changed,  and  we  skim  these  mar- 
vellous ways  '  as  the  swallows  skim  the  air 
and  almost  as  fast.  Hence  if  you  wish  delight 
in  motoring  come  to  Algeria  and  Tunisia,  and  come 
soon,  before  other  motorists  arrive,  as  it  is  a  joy 
to  have  the  land  to  yourselves.  As  I  write  we  are 
en  route  from  Bougie  on  a  long  ride  over  the  grand 
Kabylia,  that  majestic,  snow  capped  range  which 
bounds  the  line  of  vision  eastward  from  Algiers. 
While  this  section  of  the  Atlas  range  is  not  so 
lofty  as  those  in  Morocco,  where  they  attain  an 
altitude  of  twelve  thousand  feet,  they  are  very 
majestic  and  get  their  eight  thousand  feet  right  up 
from  the  sea,  so  that  no  effect  is  lost  by  a  gradual 
rise. 

The  settled  portions  of  Algeria  consist  of  three 
departments,  Algiers,  Constantine,  and  Oran, 
which  are  governed  much  like  France.  The  rest 
is  under  military  rule.  Of  the  4,500,000  inhabitants 
half  a  million  are  Europeans. 

The  name  Kabyles  means  a  tribe  and  is  given 
to  the  people  of  Berber  origin  who  inhabit  these 
mountains.  They  are  the  opposite  of  the  Arabs. 
They  never  ride  the  horse,  they  are  not  nomads 
or  pastoral,  but  live  in  these  villages  which  cling 


236  Islam  Lands 

to  their  mountains.  They  are  good  farmers  and 
industrious  in  many  other  ways  and  are  very 
patriotic.  In  this  latter  characteristic  they  re- 
semble the  Japanese.  In  battle,  they  must 
conquer  or  die, — to  return  defeated  is  disgrace 
lasting  for  ever  and  extending  to  one's  whole 
family.  If  they  die  in  battle  they  are  buried 
apart  and  that  spot  for  ever  after  is  a  place  of 
prayer. 

Until  the  French  conquest  of  1857  they  had 
never  surrendered  their  independence,  but  from 
their  rugged  highlands  watched  the  wars  of  ages 
sweep  over  sea  and  plain  below  them,  but  always 
to  be  arrested  at  the  foot  of  their  mountains. 
They  remind  one  somewhat  of  the  old  clans  of 
Scotland. 

France  has  respected  their  institutions,  manners, 
and  customs,  and  they  live  at  peace,  freely  com- 
mingling yet  ever  apart, — very  different  from  the 
Arabs  who  live  in  isolated  tribes  rarely  approach- 
ing civilisation.  The  race  is  certainly  very  much 
mixed  up  with  northern  races,  as  their  fair  com- 
plexion, blue  eyes,  and  red  hair  testify. 

Unfortunately  it  rains,  and  we  miss  half  the 
pleasure  of  the  ride;  still  enough  is  seen  to  convince 
us  that  on  a  fine  day  it  must  be  magnificent.  The 
roads  are  as  superb  here  as  elsewhere,  and  our 
motion  even  on  this  rainy  day  is  deHghtful. 
Now  and  then  when  the  mist  permits  we  catch 
glimpses  far  down  into  green  valleys  or  up  where 
snow  tips  are  backed  by  blue  skies.    Here  and  there 


The  Grand  Kabylia  237 

like  incrustations  cluster  the  Kabyle  villages, 
picturesque  from  a  distance,  but  take  my  advice 
and  do  not  approach  nearer.  They  are  very 
filthy  places.  Personally  I  prefer  the  fragrance  of 
the  forest  air  to-day. 

Leaving  the  mountains  we  lunch  at  Tizi-ouzou, 
in  a  dirty  hotel  in  a  wretched  Arab  town,  smothered 
in  dust. 

The  day  wears  on  to  its  close  as  we  approach 
Algiers.  These  are  the  vine-growing  sections  of 
Algeria  pure  and  simple  and  the  roads  are  cut  up 
and  made  unpleasantly  rutty  by  the  passing  of 
the  heavily  laden  vans  which  convey  the  casks 
to  port. 

The  soil  being  limestone  produces  a  disagreeable 
dust  which  cuts  one's  skin  into  segments.  How- 
ever, that  is  but  for  a  few  hours  on  our  last  day, 
so  we  have  not  much  to  grumble  about. 

Algiers,  approached  from  the  sea,  and  rising,  ter- 
race above  terrace,  presents  a  picturesque  appear- 
ance, but  from  the  land  it  is  not  so.  When  I  first 
visited  the  place  the  Moorish  town  was  a  pro- 
minent feature  of  the  landscape,  but  it  has  been 
swallowed  up,  drowned  out  by  the  French  city,  and 
now,  one  sees  only  the  latter;  and  the  former,  when 
one  does  find  it,  is  entirely  without  interest,  at 
least  to  those  who  know  the  Orient  from  Fez  to 
Samarkand,  and  from  Constantinople  to  Khartoum. 

I  shall  not  describe  Algiers.  It  has  been  done 
so  often  and  all  the  world  knows  all  there  is  to 
say  about  it. 


238  Islam  Lands 

In  the  picturesque  Hotel  St.  George  in  Mustapha 
Superior  we  rest  for  neariy  a  week,  amidst  bowers 
of  purple  Bougainvillea  and  tea  roses,  with  the 
blue  Mediterranean  spread  beneath  our  gaze  and 
the  snow  range  of  the  grand  Kabylia  blocking  the 
horizon  to  the  eastward. 


CHAPTER  XV 

Thoma  Purchases    the    Motor — Departure  for  Oran — 

A  Beautiful  Run — Oran — Trouble  about  the  Motor — 

Farewell  to  Islam  Lands. 

ONE'S  plans  change  in  travelling  with  every 
wind,  so  to  speak,  and  there  is  small  pleasure 
otherwise.  Ours  are  subject  to  such  violent 
alterations  that  at  times  I  do  not  know  where 
I  am  bound  for.  We  had  expected  to  take  the 
motor  to  Oran  and  discharge  it  there,  understand- 
ing that  the  roads  in  Spain,  whither  we  are  going, 
are  almost  impassable.  Information  differs  there- 
on. To-day's  post  brings  a  letter  kindly  sent  by 
our  legation  in  Madrid  to  the  effect  that,  while 
they  are  not  like  those  of  France,  they  are,  for 
those  who  do  not  desire  to  race,  quite  passable, 
that  the  king  motors  all  over  his  domain,  etc.,  etc. 
But  the  garage  in  Tunis  absolutely  refuses  to  rent 
the  car  for  the  trip.  They  will  sell  it  for  twelve 
thousand  francs  and  re-buy  when  we  leave  Spain 
**at  a  fair  valuation."  All  motorists  know  well 
what  that  would  mean.  We  decline  the  offer, 
and,  settling  up  with  Thoma,  discharge  the  car 
with  great  regret. 

We  reckon  however  without  our  host,  which 
239 


240  Islam  Lands 

in  this  case  is  Thoma.  I  did  not  know  that 
Thoma  was  a  capitaHst.  He  does  not  look  like 
one,  and  when  I  gave  him  fifty  francs  to  buy  a 
good  pair  of  shoes  and  a  pair  of  leggings  he  seemed 
very  grateftd,  almost  tearfully  so.  Hence  my 
amazement,  our  amazement  to-day  when  he  coolly 
said  that  he  would  buy  the  car  himself,  for  go  to 
Spain  he  would.  ''  In  the  lexicon  of  youth  there  is 
no  such  word  as  fail."  So  the  great  Cardinal 
told  us,  and  so  Thoma  believes,  for  he  is  going 
to  Spain,  car  and  all,  and  we  shall  go  along. 
From  now  on  he  does  not  go  with  us :  we  go  with 
him  and  he  makes  us  pay  for  the  privilege.  I 
should  not  be  at  all  surprised  if  he  gets  the  car 
and  himself  taken  to  America.  What  was  that 
book,  or  play,  where  the  family  and  the  family 
butler  are  wrecked  on  a  desert  island  and  the 
butler  soon  becomes  the  leader  and  absolute 
ruler?  We  feel  much  like  that  to-night.  Thoma 
has  a  Spanish  father  and  relatives  in  Spain,  which 
probably  has  much  to  do  with  his  decision.  At 
all  events  he  has  wired  the  firm  in  Tunis  that  he 
and  the  car  go  to  Spain  "willy-nilly."  I  expect 
to  have  him  pack  me  and  some  bags  and  bag- 
gage into  the  car  on  Friday  next  and  start  for 
Oran.  The  others  will  follow  by  train  on  Sunday. 
I  may  be  taken  to  Fez  or  the  oasis  of  Fezzan; 
Lord  knows,  I  don't,  and  I  don't  care.  Thoma  is 
a  merry  devil  and  will  sing,  and  he  may  go  where  it 
pleases  him.  We  shall  see  what  we  shall  see. 
In  the  meantime  I  have  forced  him  to  visit  a 


Leaving  Algiers  241 

dentist  and  have  his  very  excellent  teeth,  which  he 
so  continually  shows  in  broadly  smiling,  cleaned. 
The  difference  is  most  marked,  though  I  think 
he  was  as  greatly  astonished  at  the  command  as 
was  Svengali  when  he  witnessed  Taffy's  bathing. 

Still,  Thoma  is  such  an  excellent  chauffeur  that 
we  would  forgive  him  anything. 

To-day  it  came  to  the  very  business-like  brain 
of  Miss  P.  that  we  might  be  taking  things  too 
much  for  granted  about  the  power  of  Thoma  to 
take  the  car  to  Spain;  that  we  might,  and  by 
French  courts  probably  would  be,  held  personally 
responsible  if  the  Spanish  roads  caused  a  wreck. 
So  we  telegraphed  to  the  garage  in  Tunis  and 
received  reply  that  Thoma  had  really  arranged 
to  purchase  the  car, — a  thing  we  did  not  feel  able 
to  do.  (I  again  dwell  upon  those  fifty  francs  for 
his  shoes  and  leggings  and  ten  for  the  dentist.) 

But  '*en  route,  en  route,"  ho  for  the  land  of 
the  Dons  and  Hidalgos.     So  runs  the  world  away. 

Leaving  one  of  our  party  at  Algiers  because  of 
a  stubborn  cold,  we  depart  about  nine  of  a  brilliant 
morning.  The  great  orb  of  day  would  appear  to 
have  polished  his  surface  to  an  extensive  degree, 
so  dazzling  is  the  light.  The  Mediterranean 
sparkles  and  flashes  below  and  as  far; out  as  our 
sight  goes.  All  the  vines  and  flowers  and  trees  are 
fresh  from  their  night's  sleep  and  deep  draughts 
of  dew. 

This  hotel,  the  St.  George,  has  been  a  most 
attractive  stopping  place,  its  terraces  and  gardens 
16 


242  Islam  Lands 

a  delight  always,  but  I  can  only  hope  that  there 
may  be  more  bathrooms  before  I  return  to  its 
shelter. 

Hotels  here  have  had  a  hard  time  of  late,  two 
of  the  large  ones  failed  and  closed  last  year,  and 
this  only  ptdled  through  by  a  scant  margin.  It 
was  reported  that  the  plague  had  effected  an 
entrance  at  Oran,  and  that  with  the  troubles  in 
Morocco  and  the  panic  in  America  caused  such 
depression  here  that  the  Continental  and  Palace 
shut  down  and  remain  so. 

After  all,  unless  one  comes  for  health  and  the 
climate,  I  do  not  see  that  Algiers  can  be  attractive. 
The  native  town  certainly  is  not  so  and  is  drowned 
out  by  the  French.  The  climate  is  superior  to 
that  of  Cairo.  It  is  dryer.  One  can  sit  on  this 
terrace  and  not  feel  the  dampness  which  strikes 
through  overcoat  and  all  at  Shepheard's. 

However,  there  is  so  much  else  in  Egypt  that 
one  forgives  all  that  and  the  colds  contracted 
thereby,  and,  like  all  tropical  colds,  one  taken  in 
Cairo  lasts  you  all  winter. 

But  our  motor  puffs  impatiently,  and,  good- 
byes said,  we  are  off  and  away,  skimming  down  the 
wide  white  highways  with  the  joyousness  of  boys, 
which  I  am  forced  to  acknowledge  we  are  not, 
sad  to  relate,  but,  enjoy  the  life  that  is  left  you. 

Our  way  leads  into  the  valleys  for  some  kilo- 
metres and  then  we  turn  into  the  hills  and,  finally, 
high  up  amongst  the  Atlas  Mountains,  and  for 
three  hours  enjoy  one  of  the  most  beautiful  rides 


Milina  243 

of  the  tour,  so  far,  in  close  communion  with  the 
mountain  tops  and  farthest  solitudes  where  the 
winds  blow  all  megrims  away.  Enjoy  all 
this,  for  it  is  worth  it.  Look  at  those  flowers. 
Did  man  ever  see  anything  more  lovely?  Green 
meadows  beyond  hedges  of  pale  lavender  asphodels, 
orange  hued  buttercups,  pale  yellow  and  pure 
white  daisies,  masses  of  apple  and  pear  trees  in  full 
bloom,  and  all  the  land  a-blush  with  the  almonds. 
Then  the  dark  blue  mountain  dotted  with  white- 
domed  tombs.    Indeed  it  is  great  to  be  alive. 

We  lunch  at  a  little  place,  high  up  amongst  the 
brown  hills,  called  Milina,  a  much  better  meal 
than  one  could  find  at  such  a  place  in  America, 
yet  it  is  the  worst  we  have  encountered. 

As  we  start  onward  the  land  is  spread  out  be- 
fore and  below  us  in  a  vast  panorama,  and  from 
here  one  may  trace  our  onward  route,  stretching  a 
perfectly  straight  highway  for  at  least  ten  miles, 
entirely  across  this  plateau  of  the  mountains. 

The  afternoon's  ride  would  have  been  tedious 
but  for  those  long  straight  stretches  of  road,  of 
which  I  have  never  heretofore  encountered  so 
many.  There  were  several  such  during  the 
afternoon  and  with  such  surfaces  what  a  chance  for 
speed,  which,  as  there  was  nothing  to  see,  we 
fully  availed  ourselves  of.  How  we  did  fly !  How 
the  wind  sung  round  us! 

The  result  was  that  we  reached  Orleansville,  our 
intended  sojourn  for  the  night,  a  little  after  three 
o'clock.     To  stop  now  on  such  a  day  would  have 


244  Islam  Lands 

been  stupid  so  we  decided  to  move  on  and  trust  to 
luck  for  a  sleeping  place;  being  but  two  men  we 
can  put  up  with  much.  While  Thoma  fills  up 
his  tank  the  usual  crowd  gathers  around  us,  and 
one  of  them,  a  young  black  woman,  attracts  our 
attention  at  once.  Though  in  Moorish  dress  she  is 
imveiled,  which  estabHshes  her  station  in  life  at  once, 
a  woman  of  the  town.  All  in  white  muslin  with 
balloon-like  trousers,  white  draperies  over  her  head 
and  falling  in  graceful  folds  around  her  shoulders, 
she  wears  a  great  quantity  of  gold  jewelry,  filagree 
most  of  it,  with  immense  hoops  in  her  ears,  probably 
her  entire  fortune  for  which  she  may  be  mtirdered 
any  night.  Her  bold,  black  eyes  search  our  faces 
questioningly,  but  turn  hopelessly  to  some  Arab 
youths  that  are  hanging  aroimd  her  and  with 
whom  she  shortly  runs  laughing  away. 

We  are  paid  for  our  temerity  in  increasing 
our  run,  by  the  destruction  of  an  outer  and 
inner  tube  which  blow  out  about  five  o'clock. 
As  this  is  his  first  day  as  proprietor  Thoma  looks 
grave. 

It  was  seven  before  we  reached  Relizane  and 
find  comfortable  quarters  in  the  H6tel  de  Paris 
close  by  the  railway.  As  the  tracks  appear  to 
be  used  for  anything  except  the  passage  of  trains, 
we  are  not  disturbed  by  noise.  In  all  the  four 
htmdred  and  sixty-seven  kilometres  between 
Algiers  and  Oran,  though  within  sight  of  the  road 
most  of  the  time,  we  saw  but  one  train.  There 
axe  two  passenger  trains  a  day  each  way  between 


Relizane  245 

these  cities,  morning  and  evening,  but  we  saw  but 
one  of  the  four. 

The  Hotel  de  Paris  brings  the  earth  closer.  It 
is  but  one  story  in  height  and  built  around  a  court. 
There  Monsieur  sits  smoking  cigarettes  and 
Madam  is  knitting. 

*'Have  you  rooms?" 

"But  yes,  certainly  the  gentlemen  shall  be  ac- 
commodated," which,  with  an  eye  to  future 
patronage  from  him  on  future  runs,  means  as  good  a 
room  for  Thoma  as  our  own.  They  are  all  flat 
down  on  the  ground,  for  which  reason  the  casements 
are  protected  by  heavy  iron  bars,  through  which 
several  dogs  and  cats  enter  during  the  night  but 
which  keeps  out  Arab  kind.  The  floors  are 
shining  tiles,  as  are  those  in  the  sdle-d-mangery 
and  hallway.  The  beds  are  massive  and  bear 
those  mountainous  feather  covers.  There  is  one 
candle  which  serves  to  make  the  darkness  visible. 
While  waiting  for  dinner  we  sit  in  the  garden  with 
Madam,  who  tells  us  that  it  is  hot,  very  hot  here 
in  summer,  and  life  diflicult  to  bear.  That  there 
are  some  fourteen  thousand  inhabitants,  mostly 
Arabs.  To-day  has  been  a  fete  with  them,  which 
it  is  a  pity  Monsieur  could  not  have  seen,  the 
*^f^te  Mosambique,"  much  spear-throwing  and 
high  jimiping,  doubtless  attended  by  the  usual 
discordant  noises  and  loud  smells  of  an  Arab 
gathering, — heat,  dust,  dirt,  and  dogs  everywhere, 
with  the  himian  element  the  dirtiest  of  the  whole. 
I  do  not  regret  that  I  missed  it. 


246  Islam  Lands 

As  usual  I  am  much  interested  and  amused  at  the 
people  in  this  provincial  French  hotel. 

As  I  sit  at  table,  the  room  being  as  yet  empty, 
I  notice  that  the  napkins  are  each  folded  as  the 
taste  and  ability  of  its  user  dictate.  All  sorts 
of  animals  are  represented,  also  knots  and  bows, 
pyramids  and  balls,  so  that  each  man  may  identify 
his  own.  In  the  little  hotel  at  Biskra  one  party 
had  cloth  cases  to  hold  theirs  and  every  article  on 
the  table,  including  the  mouths  of  the  water  bottle, 
were  assiduously  polished  at  each  meal.  This  would 
make  an  American  head-waiter  angry,  but  not 
so  here :  it  is  taken  as  a  matter  of  course,  though  I 
doubt  its  being  as  much  needed  as  in  our  own 
land;  but  to  return.  Gradually  the  people  enter 
and  silently  take  their  places.  Not  a  word  is 
spoken  dining  the  meal;  all  the  time  not  needed 
for  eating  is  employed  in  looking  us  over.  After 
dinner  they  depart  as  silently  as  they  entered. 
How  different  from  the  rattle  and  clatter  of  a 
German  hotel.  Every  one  apparently  goes  to  bed 
at  once  and  we  follow  suit  shortly  as  there  is  no 
place  else  to  go.  Gran  is  reached  before  luncheon 
and  after  the  stopping  places  of  the  last  day  or  so 
we  fairly  revel  in  her  very  excellent  hotel  where 
we  await  the  departure  of  our  ship  for  Spain. 

Our  last  day  in  Africa  is  not  to  pass  unmarked. 

At  seven  in  the  morning  P.  breaks  into  my 
room  waving  a  telegram.  I  at  once  imagined 
that  some  accident  or  illness  had  overtaken  his 
sister  or  her  maid,  who  were  to  have  arrived  early 


Oran  247 

this  morning  by  train  from  Algiers,  and  am  greatly 
relieved  to  find  that  they  are  both  already  in  the 
hotel,  and  well.  The  telegram  comes  from  the 
garage  in  Tunis  and  is  to  the  effect  that  no  money 
having  been  received  from  the  chauffeur  we  are 
forbidden  to  take  the  car  out  of  Algeria,  and  if  we 
attempt  to  do  so  we'll  be  served  ''with  attach- 
ment." As  we  know  the  money  has  been  sent  and 
as  it  in  no  way  concerns  us,  we  are  somewhat 
indignant,  but  our  wrath  is  nothing  when  compared 
to  that  of  our  little  chauffeur,  whom  we  find 
calmly  at  breakfast  bearing  all  the  airs  of  a  rentier. 
He  fairly  jumps  with  rage,  but  that  does  not  help 
matters,  and  we  are  booked  to  sail  at  eleven  to- 
night. The  whole  trouble  arises  from  the  inter- 
vention of  Sunday,  when  the  post  in  Tunis  is  not 
delivered.  The  money,  sent  Friday  night,  is  cer- 
tainly in  their  hands  by  now,  but  several  telegrams 
are  indited  notwithstanding.  We  proceed  to 
embark,  auto  and  all,  and  by  seven  at  night  have 
the  assurance  that  all  is  well.  Their  threat  against 
us  was  absurd  as  the  whole  arrangement  was 
between  their  house  and  their  chauffeur.  As 
their  representative,  we  had  paid  him  off  and 
dismissed  the  car  on  Wednesday  last.  All  sub- 
sequent arrangements  were  between  themselves, 
we  merely  renting  from  the  purchaser  of  the  car, 
i.e.,  the  chauffeur.  However,  they  might  have 
caused  us  delay  at  least,  and  much  unpleasant- 
ness, all  danger  of  which  is  over  and  the  ship  pants 
to  be  off. 


248  Islam  Lands 

What  a  tour  it  has  been,  and  it  is  but  half 
over.  What  a  gorgeous  panorama  has  unrolled 
itself  since  we  sailed  from  Marseilles  four 
months  ago.  Beginning  with  a  glimpse  of  the 
wrecked  cities  of  Messina  and  Reggio  as  our 
ship  steamed  past  them;  then  on  through  stately- 
Egypt,  and  far  south  until  the  sadness  and  the 
brilliance  of  the  Sudan  surroimded  us,  giving 
place  to  the  ghttering  Red  Sea  and  gay  city  of 
the  Caliphs;  and  then  the  joyous  motor  tour  in 
Tunisia  and  Algeria,  when  Carthage,  Tunis,  Kar- 
aw^n,  Dougga,  Timgad  the  magnificent,  and  fairy 
Biskra,  with  its  Garden  of  Allah,  succeeded 
each  other  and  were  followed  by  the  grandeur  of 
the  Chabet  Gorge,  the  African  Comiche,  and 
the  beautiful  Kabylia  Mountains  until  Algiers 
was  reached  and  passed  and  this  beautiful  run 
to  Oran  ended  all.  How  it  unrolls  itself  to  our 
mind's  eye  as  our  ship  leaves  port  and  we  realise 
that  our  journey  is  over. 

As  we  turn  for  a  farewell  to  the  city  the  sun 
cuts  through  a  rift  of  the  western  heavens,  flood- 
ing the  land  and  sea,  giving  us  our  last  touch 
of  African  sunshine,  our  last  glimpse  of 


ISLAM  LANDS. 


INDEX 


Aahreel,  Ghazel,  51 
Abshek,  Lady  of,  7 
Abu-Hamed,  24,  28 
Abd-Klea,  35 

Abil-Simbel,  7,  8,  10,  12,  16 
Aghlabites,  The,  174 
Ain-Morris,  223 
Allah,  Garden  of,  212 
Anderson,  Bey,  118,  151 
Archibald,  Captain,  41,  67,  80, 

81.85 
Asser,  Colonel,  37,  38,  77,  109 
Assouan,  3,  21,  54 
Atbara,  24,  113 
Aures,  Mount,  219 

B 

Baker,  Sir  Samuel,  36,  47 
Balfour,  Doctor,  70,  86 
Ballu,  M.,  222,  224 
Batna,  218,  224,  227 
Berber,  The,  26,  223,  235 
Biskra,  196,  198,  200,  201,  205, 
211,  212,  213,  214,  215,  217 
B6ne,  193,  194 

Bongie,  227,  230,  231,  232,  235 
Brindle,  Father,  107 
Byrsa,  The,  162,  165 


Cairo,  127 
Candace,  Queen,  5 


Carta,  Marina,  47 

Carthage,  158,  159,  160,  162, 

163,  164,  165,  166,  225 
Chabet-el-Akhira,     229,     230, 

231 
Charles  V.,  231 
Cleopatra,  6,  14 
Constantlne,    195,    196,    200, 

225,  226,  227,  235 
Cromer,  Lord,  25,  26,  28,  104 

E 

Edie,  E.  S.,  Mr.,  88 
Edwards,  Miss.,  10 
Elephantaine,  16 
El-Kan  tara,  197 


Ferdinand,  King,  231 
Fetherstonehaugh,  Major,  80 
Fez,  237,  340 
Fezzan,  240 


Gallstone,   Mr.,   27,   71,    100, 

104,  105 
Gallus-Lucius  Manatius,  219 
Gerf  Hus6n,  3 
Germanicus,  Caesar  Augustus, 

220 
Gondokoro,  109 
Gordon,   College,  30,  35,  36, 

55.80 


249 


250 


Index 


Gordon,   General,   4,   23,   25, 
26,  27,  30,  35,  40,  42,  43,  52, 

71.75,  90,  91.92,  93.  94.  95» 
99,  100,  loi,  103,  104,  105, 
106,  107,  108,  140 
Gubat,  35 

H 

Hamman-Meskoutine,   194 
Haskard,  Major,  48,  49,  68 
Hassen,  Bey,  94 
Herodotus,  16 
Hucuba,  179 
Hunt,  Leigh,  28 


Ibrahim-ibn-Ahmed,  189 
Ishmail,  Pasha,  34 


Jijeli,  232 


Kabali,  The,  235 

Kabyle,  235,  237 

Kalaazar,  87 

Karawan,  160,  167,  170,  172, 

173,  175,  176,  177,  178,  181, 

183,  185,  188,  189,  190 
Kamak,  16 
Kasbic,  The,  227 
Kasr,  Ibrim,  5 
Kern,  12 
Khalifa,  The,  21,  32,  37,  39, 

43.  48,  50.  56,  58,  60,  61,  62 
Kharata,  229 
Khartoum,  21,  23,  26,  28,  31, 

34.35.  36,37,39.40.41.42, 

47 


Khedive,  The,  129,  140,  154, 

155 
Kitchener,  General,  27,  44,  51, 

61,  71,  73,  80,  107 
Koch,  Doctor,  83 
Kordofen,  34,  87 
Korosko,  4 


Lavigerie,  Cardinal,  162 
Louis,  King,  163,  166 

M 

Mahdi,  The,  25,  37,  45,  48,  50, 
51,  52,  58,  71,  73,  89,  91, 
98,  99,  102 

Martel,  Charles,  48,  177 

McLean,  W.  H.,  Mr.,  87 

Merawi,  28 

Metemma,  35 

Mohammed,  Ali,  34,  36,  39, 

130.  150 
Mudir  of  Berber,  99 

N 

Nahass,  95 
Nefert-Ari,  Queen,  7 
Negroid,  The,  70 
Nerva,  The  Divine,  220 
Neufeld,  74,  92,  97 
Niman,  Agha,  95 
Nime,  Sultan,  34 
Northbrook,  Lord,  104 
Nubia,  21 
Nubia,  Sultan  of,  34 


Ohrwalder,  Father,  57,  64,  78 
Okhbah,  180,  183,  187 
Okas,  Cape,  230 


Index 


251 


Omar,  Mohammed,  97 

Omdurman,  30,  31,  33,  35,  36, 
39,40,45,48,49,51,52,53, 
57,  61,  62,  65,  71,  73,  75»  76, 
91,  98,  113 

Oran,  210,  235,  239,  242,  248 

Orphan,  94,  97 

Osiris,  12 


Philae,  i,  3,  7 
Pirrie,  Dr.  MacTier,  88 
Poet,  Sudan,  22,  24,  30,  114 
Psammetichus,  16,  17 

R 

Ra,  12 

Rameses  II.,  10,  14 
Read,  Sir  T.,  193 
Roterts,  Lord,  21,  44 
Rouchid,  Bey,  96 


Seaman,  Doctor,  84,  85 

Setif,  227 

Shendi,  34 

Sidi  Okba,  205,  206,  207,  209 

Sirdar,  The,  20 

Slatin,  Sir  Rudolph  von,  43, 
53.  54»  55.  60,  61,  62,  66,  67, 
73.  76,  97.  98.  loi,  102 

Sleeping  Sickness,  81 

Sobats,  The,  no 

Solomon,  General,  219 


Souk-el -Arba,  193 
Sousse,  190 
Speke,  47 

Stewart,  General,  28,  35 
Sudan,   The,    19,    20,   21,   35, 
70,  86,  89,  119 


Tel-el-Kebir,  127 
Thebes,  7 
Thugga,  192 

Timgad,    159,    163,   218,    219, 
220,  221,  222,  223,  224,  225 
Tizi-ouzou,  237 
Tolstoi,  204 
Trajanam,  220 
Tse-Tse  Fly,  The,  81 
Tuggurt,  200 


Utica,  225 


U 


W 


Wady-Halfa,  21,  22 
Waldburg,  Prince  of,  47 
Waldsee,  Muller,  47 
Wellcome,  Henry  S.,  Mr.,  86 
Wellcome,  Laboratory,  70 
Wilson,  Sir  Charles,  35 
Wingate,  Major,  57 
Wolf  egg,  Chateau  of,  47 


Ziadet  Allah,  189 
Zobheir,  65,  71 


By  MICHAEL  MYERS  SHOEMAKER 


Islands  of  the  Southern  Seas 

With  80  Illustrations.       Second  edition.       Large  8°. 
Gilt  top.    $2.25. 

"  The  author  has  not  only  a  cultured  style  and  highly  descriptive  power, 
but  a  quiet,  delightful  humor.  Moreover,  he  is  always  interesting,  even 
when  describing  the  daily  incidents  of  a  tour  through  New  Zealand  and 
Tasmania.  .  .  .'Islands  of  the  Southern  Seas'  is  one  of  the  few  books 
of  modern  travel  that  are  worthy  of  being  kept  and  read  over  and  over  again. 
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Quaint  Corners  of  Ancient 
Empires 

Southern  India,  Burma  and  Manila.     With  47  illus- 
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Petersburg  to  Pekin 

8°        With   30  Illustrations  and   a  Map.        By  mail, 

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Winged  Wheels  in  France 

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travels  in  various  parts  of  the  world.  Hence  he  possesses  in  a  very  high 
degree  the  descriptive  quality.  He  also  sprinkles  his  pages  with  a  certain 
descriptive  humour,  and  endows  them  with  a  certain  personal  interest  and 
charm  that  add  to  the  attractiveness  of  his  travel  records.  For  the  rest  Mr. 
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Wanderings  in  Ireland 

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God,  but  yer  Honor's  welcome.'  He  travels  '  by  donkey-cart,  by  jaunting- 
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Palaces  and  Prisons  of  flary 
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whose  tragic  career  more  controversy  has  raged  than  concerning  any  other 
personage  in  the  history  of  these  islands.  .  .  .  Those  who  are  fasci- 
nated by  the  great  romance,  who  have  as  yet  made  no  detailed  study  of  the 
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by  a  wealth  of  artistic  illustration  worthy  of  so  picturesque  and  royal  a 
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The  Heart  of  the  Orient 

Saunterings  through  Georgia,  Armenia,  Persia,  Turko- 
mania,  and  Turkestan,  to  the  Vale  of  Paradise.  8°. 
With  52  illustrations.     Net,  $2.50.     By  mail,  $2.70. 

These  pages  and  pictures  are  descriptive  of  the  heart  of  the 
Orient,  from  high  life  at  the  Persian  Court  to  low  life  in  the  tents 
of  Kirghiz.  They  include  also  a  description  of  a  tarantass  journey- 
through  Central  Asia. 

"  Mr.  Shoemaker's  descriptive  powers  are  of  the  best.  He  writes  enter- 
tainingly, he  is  never  tiresome,  and  is  always  enjoyable  ;  his  observation  and 
statements  of  fact  are  unusually  accurate,  his  style  is  pleasant.  For  big 
and  for  little,  with  all  that  makes  up  the  intermediate,  '  The  Heart  of  the 
Orient,'  with  its  excellent  illustrations  and  its  cultured  letterpress,  is  one  of 
the  best  books  of  travel  that  we  have  read  in  a  long  time." — Times. 

"  One  of  the  best  travel  stories  of  the  year." — Literary  World, 

Send  for  descriptive  circular. 


Q.  p.  PUTNAfl'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 


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This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below, 
or  on  the  date  to  which  renewed.  Renewals  only: 

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Renewals  may  be  made  4  days  iirior  to  date  due. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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REC'DLD    SEP  ^4  -'♦9PM4  § 


LD21A-40m-8,'71 
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General  Library 

Uaiversity  of  California 

Berkeley 


YB  34112 


